


Lia & Em's Adventure in Thedas Part II: The Threat Remains

by dredshirtroberts



Series: Lia & Em's Adventure In Thedas: A Dragon Age Inquisition MGIT Story [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Entirely Self-Indulgent, Gen, I apologize for nothing, MGiT, Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Girl(s) in Thedas, Self-Insert, at least a little bit anyway, except if i forgot a tag for either a character or content but i think i've covered most of my bases
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 83,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dredshirtroberts/pseuds/dredshirtroberts
Summary: Kinda trope-y, very self-indulgent, and completely for my own amusement (well, that and for the amusement of my best friend who I dragged along with me for this adventure) - a dramatic, overwrought retelling of Dragon Age: Inquisition filled with my own personal headcanons, canon alterations, and *probably* too much Elvhen...Lia and Em wake up *still* in Haven, and so now they've just got to...figure out what the fuck they're going to do about it, I guess.
Series: Lia & Em's Adventure In Thedas: A Dragon Age Inquisition MGIT Story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646749
Comments: 38
Kudos: 46





	1. That’s What You Get For Waking Up In Thedas

**Author's Note:**

> Hooo boy y'all.
> 
> First off thank you to everyone who Kudosed, commented, bookmarked and subscribed to Part 1 and the series as a whole - holy shit y'all i'm blown away by the response. I started this as an entirely self-indulgent piece of work because I love Dragon Age and also maladaptive daydreaming is fun and all but sometimes you wanna make sure you keep track of which parts of the story you *like*. So here we are!
> 
> HUUUUGE shoutout to sumomoblossom77 and concertconfetti for helping me beta this monster, letting me bounce ideas around, and helping me write, rewrite, and learn when to scrap something because it's not working it doesn't matter how cool of a sentence or concept it might be - put it in *later*, Captain. 
> 
> Stuff you should check out:  
> [Lia & Em's Adventure in Thedas blog](https://lia-and-em-adventure-in-thedas.tumblr.com/)  
> [My blog](https://dredshirtroberts.tumblr.com)  
> [Sumomo's blog](https://sumomoblossom77.tumblr.com/)  
> [Concertconfetti's blog](https://concertconfetti.tumblr.com/)  
> ([Pssst: you should also check out concertconfetti's stories on here too!)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/concertconfetti/pseuds/concertconfetti)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Text between the ‹‹ and ›› brackets is in Elvhen, translations in the notes at the end of the chapter.

Lia startled herself awake with a gasp, miasmic green-tinted dreams floating from the edges of her mind. She shoved off the heavy blanket that felt as though it were pinning her to the bed, all at once too warm and feeling slightly claustrophobic. The visions she’d been subjected to as she slept kept drifting through her mind, only vague feelings and impressions now, leaving her unable to remember anything concrete about them. She took a deep, shaking breath as she sat up and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs as she tried to calm her heartbeat and her breathing. She rested her face in her hands and then shoved them both through her hair restlessly. Or she would have if her hair hadn’t been braided tightly out of the way to keep it tidy as she slept. It was very neat, as though she hadn’t just spent an entire night asleep on it. She ran her hands down it absently as she looked around the room.

The room was dark in the same way that a wood-panelled basement is dark even with all the lights on, but in this case there was a cheery fire blazing in the stone fireplace to her left, rather than electric lights illuminating the room. The walls were bare timber planks and exposed beams held up the roof of the building. A small desk with a rather cushiony looking chair sat tucked in the corner on the other side of the fireplace and there was a weird frame with canvas stretched across it tucked away between the desk and the wall. Diagonally from where Lia’s bed was placed was a pile of crates, barrels, and a large metal cage that had a… was that a _raven_ _?_ It was some sort of giant black bird that looked vaguely corvid in shape, anyway. 

There were a few small pelts on the walls providing nothing but decoration. Two small windows mirrored one another right next to a set of shelves that framed the doorway - archway? Was it a doorway if there was no door? - to a small, very dark space that led to what Lia could only assume was a door exiting the small building. The shelves held not only books but several jars and bottles of unknown contents and something that looked like an empty vase. More crates and boxes seemed to be piled up on the other side of the bookshelf wall that she could see - and Lia supposed there were probably more on the side she couldn’t see, too.

There was also a small, spindly chair that was pulled just underneath the window at the end of the bed, with a large blanket draped over it. As Lia observed her unfamiliar surroundings, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, letting her bare feet touch the soft fur just beside it. Imprints in the fur had her wondering if the chair at the foot of the bed was recently moved. 

She rubbed her palms on her legs, the soft fabric turning her attention from the room at large to what she was wearing. Brown cotton leggings, a little loose but not overly so, and a large...shirt? Was it a shirt? There was a lot of white linen pooled at her waist where she sat up so it was probably at least a little longer than a shirt. The sleeves were long and full, the fabric gathering at the wrists in a cuff that was probably supposed to fit tightly around the wrist with some movement allowed, but on Lia it had at least a full three fingers of gap between her skin and the cuff of the shirt. The shoulders of the shirt felt weird and she looked to find loosely stitched seams where the sleeves seemed to almost pull away from the bodice of the shirt. She picked at it absently as she tried to sort through the anxiety that flooded her chest making her feel slightly nauseous. Her face felt flushed and her fingers and toes were tingling. Lia chewed on her lower lip as she fought to keep her breathing steady while her heart rate picked back up again.

She absently lifted a hand to adjust the glasses on her face and was startled to find that she wasn’t wearing any. She didn’t wear contacts often, but she was fairly certain that if she had fallen asleep with them in, she’d be very uncomfortable right now. But she just felt...normal. Fine even. Except she could see clearly, and she didn’t know where she was, and she didn’t know how she got here.

The raven in the cage flapped its wings and chattered its beak at her, startling Lia a little, but cementing her more in the moment - which she was thankful for. 

Something about this place seemed weirdly familiar. Like she’d seen pictures of it somewhere, or something. She knew she’d never been here before, but she’d... _seen_ it...

It was like something off of a cottage-core aesthetic blog that delved into the tiny-house nonsense. She scoffed a little and raised her left hand to adjust her glasses that still weren’t there again, when a flash of green light caught her eye - she hadn’t used glitter recently, had she?

No, it wasn’t glitter. Instead of the tiny fleck of reflective plastic - or whatever it was that made glitter, well...glittery - that she was anticipating, there was a long scar-like indentation following the track of her headline on her palm. 

Oh. 

Oh _no._

“Fuck.” She cursed, softly, realizing suddenly that the part of her dreams where she’d been transported to Thedas to become the Inquisitor hadn’t actually been a dream, and that it had actually happened.

A creak to her right drew her attention and she turned her head to watch an elven woman come through the doorway, closing it behind her gently with her foot. She was holding something that looked pretty heavy in her thin arms. 

But rather than the short-haired elf that Lia remembered from the games, this one had long hair. Long, kind of a dirty-blonde, and pulled back into a french braid that ended in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. The hair trailed down to about mid-back, draping over a thick grey scarf or something, and was incredibly defined against the wine-red knit tunic she wore. The strange woman was humming to herself as she puttered around, setting the box down near the raven, who made more chattering noises at her. She made similar noises back, putting her finger through the bars and wiggling it a little as she made nonsense sounds. It nipped her finger but didn’t seem to be aggressive as she pulled back and fished something out of a pocket on her belt.

“‹‹Don’t you dare tell Leliana, da’Banaean. This is our little secret, yeah?››” The woman whispered to the bird as she fed it whatever she’d gotten out of her pocket. The bird squawked happily and took the proffered treat, gulping it down with the enthusiasm only birds seem to have for eating everything in one go. Lia felt her chest release the knot of panic that had been building it a rush and she slumped a little in relief as she smiled, watching her friend talk to the bird.

“Em?” Lia spoke quietly, not wanting to startle her. This was in vain as the other woman jumped about half a foot in the air with a sharp, squeaking gasp.

“‹‹Why does everyone _do_ that to me?››” Em seemed to ask no one as she spun around, clutching her chest like she was afraid her ribcage was going to fly away. She took note of Lia on the bed and squealed a little again, but this time a lot more happily, “Lia!”

Em launched herself at Lia, wrapping her arms around the woman on the bed and toppling her backwards. As Em snuggled closer, she began to babble quickly right next to Lia’s ear, “‹‹Oh my goodness, you’re awake! I’m so glad you’re awake! I knew you would wake up, but also I was worried and Solas said Adan said it was fine, but I didn’t _know_ know, you know, and _fuck_ it’s so good that you’re up. Oh! Cassandra will need to- We’ll get up and go over there next, it’s fine, are you fine? How are you feeling?››” Em pulled away as her chatter turned into questions, lifting herself up and looking down at Lia who couldn’t help the relieved laughter at her friend’s anxious rambling.

“‹‹I’m fine, Em. I’m fine. Can I sit up?››” She shoved a little at her friend’s shoulder and Em backed up, barely taking her eyes off Lia for the time it took to blink as she settled down to Lia’s left side, her boots hanging off the edge of the bed but her feet well above the ground.

“‹‹It’s just, you were out for so long. I was worried I’d forgotten the time frame from the games, and I was just,››” Em twisted her fingers in front of herself, sighing, “‹‹Solas said it was probably just overexertion of your magic, ‘cause of all the fighting right after having gone through the Fade physically and all, plus the whole closing the rifts thing apparently might be a bit taxing. And it’s not like he has any reason to lie about you just being tired but it’s _Solas_ you know? I’d just stepped out to grab some fresh supplies for you and it was just a minute, and then you’re awake! I’m so glad you’re awake.››” She said again, bouncing a little as the words spilled out from her like she couldn’t make them stop.

“‹‹Me too,››” Lia admitted, “‹‹How long was I asleep?››”

“‹‹It’s been three days.››” Em explained, and suddenly her distress and anxiety made a whole lot more sense.

_“‹‹Three days?››”_

Em nodded as Lia absorbed the information, “‹‹Yeah, they took you from the rift pretty early on. Varric and I didn’t get back until, like, noon-ish? You weren’t injured or anything, but Adan and Solas had you back here. I was allowed to be in here when they were done making sure you were okay, though. That was nice, cause sleeping in a tent again was not looking like a good time after the injuries I took, even if Solas did heal them up really well.››”

Lia blinked, realizing suddenly she’d missed a _lot_ of information somehow.

“‹‹Excuse me? What tent? You were injured? You were _injured!››”_ The memory of Em falling to the ground as the pride demon dematerialized out from under her as it died, the gory horror that she’d sustained and had healed before they’d even made it to the rift in the mountain pass, the hits she’d taken in the battles they’d fought. How was she _walking ?_

“‹‹Magic is a holy _fucking_ miracle,›› Andraste’s tits ‹‹it’s ridiculous.››” The abrupt switch to weirdly accented...whatever the common language was - Thedosian? No, Trade, her mind supplied - in the middle of Em’s sentence was a bit jarring but Lia guessed it was a phrase Em had picked up while she was out.

For _three days._

Em must have caught some of the confusion Lia was experiencing from her facial expression, considering how openly Lia knew she wore her emotions on her face, because she responded to the questions Lia hadn’t yet voiced, “‹‹Uh, Varric’s been teaching me to speak the language. It’s been slow-going but I’m getting to be alright. He said that phrase wasn’t a swear word, but I still probably shouldn’t say it in the Chantry.››” She scrubbed the back of her neck, a flush stealing across her face and up to the tips of her pointy ears, which twitched downwards as she spoke.

“‹‹I wouldn’t say it’s _not_ a swear, but yeah. You’ll probably get a dirty look from the Chantry sisters.››” Lia laughed a little, shaking her head, “‹‹So, your injuries?››”

“‹‹Yeah, uh. Got banged up a little. And the...the one you knew about hadn’t _totally_ healed by the time I fell off the pride demon. The fall did not make it better.››” Em scrubbed lightly at her right side with her left hand as she spoke. This threw into sharp relief that there was a large swatch of stitching in the right elbow of her shirt, keeping edges that would have frayed otherwise neatly together. There was a patch of slightly off-color fabric stitched to the inside of Em’s shirt - right over where Lia still clearly remembered the injury she’d taken to the ribs. It suddenly occurred to Lia that this was the same undershirt Em had been wearing on their trek up to the Temple.

Lia wrapped her arms tightly around Em’s shoulders, pulling her in. Em’s arms went around Lia again, and they collapsed into one another a little, keeping each other up. Em felt _tiny_ _,_ which was disconcerting for a multitude of reasons, but mostly just that it made her seem all the more fragile. Which was ridiculous as Em was possibly one of the least physically fragile people Lia had ever known. 

Lia pulled back a little from her friend, sliding her hands down Em’s arms to hold her elbows. Em mirrored the hold, sitting up to look Lia in the eye. Em’s blue eyes were rimmed in smudged black eyeliner - it was so messy it looked more like warpaint than like makeup. Which, in all honesty, it probably _was_ closer to warpaint than cosmetics. Dark circles were almost hidden under the smears of black, belying the amount of sleep Em had gotten over the past few days.

Under her eyes and across her cheeks, spindly lines of branches stretched, reaching up and back to her flickering ears - Mythal’s vallaslin. Mythal, the protector. Just like Em had been back home.

_No...that’s not right,_ Lia felt herself thinking before she shook it away. Something was telling her it wasn’t the time for that.

“‹‹You cannot go off and risk your life like you did with that demon!››” She scolded her friend, her voice just this side of panicked and just the other side of stern, “‹‹I almost lost you twice in one day and that’s not okay.››”

Em looked a little startled at the sudden chastising she was receiving, but she nodded, “‹‹I wasn’t exactly planning on it,››” She replied, swallowing thickly, then shook herself a little, “‹‹You need to get dressed. Lady-Cassandra asked that you be brought to the Chantry as soon as you woke up.››” Em said, stepping back and turning to the small chest by the desk in the cabin, her tongue clicking hard on the C in Cassandra’s name as if to overemphasize it. Lia blinked at the way Em said Cassandra’s name and title - like it was a single word. She shook her head a little again and as she stood took another look at the clothing she’d noticed upon waking up. The shirt - or maybe it would be more accurate to call it a shift or chemise - fell from where it had gathered at her hips while she sat and landed about mid-thigh.

Em turned back around to unfold items she’d brought in with her. Lia crossed her arms in front of herself - both to keep warm and to affect some modesty. While the thin nightshirt covered her fully, without the support of her normal undergarments she still felt exposed.

Finally Em turned around and presented her with the clothes. They were made of humble fabrics, homespun and hand woven fibers creating thick draping garments. She pulled the topmost item up and held it in front of her to see what it was.

A cotton overdress in a soft, mossy green color tumbled from its folded position as she raised the garment up. It had no sleeves and looked like it would just pull on over top what Lia was currently wearing. Below it was a darker green garment, slightly heavier looking - almost a twill fabric texture. There were a couple other things that Lia saw underneath that as Em pushed the rest of the garments at her.

“‹‹Set those on the bed, I’ll help you get into the stays,››” Em yanked the bottom most garment from under everything else, holding up the structured piece for Lia to see properly. It looked...Well it looked like the kind of undergarment a woman from the medieval era might wear, actually - which was fitting, considering. It was structured with cording and held its shape stiffly in Em’s hands as she gestured for Lia to put her arms through the arm holes. 

“‹‹They’re technically half-stays,››” Em explained, “‹‹It does a good job of holding things in place - not that I can really accurately tell for sure, but apparently these are all the rage with the dwarven ladies so they must be somewhat effective.››” Em was chattering as she helped Lia into it. It wrapped around Lia’s back like a vest, and the front overlapped on itself, tying on the side with a wide cotton cord, “‹‹Mostly I think it’s just good to have a thick underlayer like this for extra padding, considering what we’ve got going on violence-wise in this world.››” Lia let Em continue chattering as they worked together to dress her, knowing it helped her friend to talk through what she was doing and share information to calm herself down.

Once she was secured in the vest that fell to her ribcage in a gently structured v-shape, she did find it to be incredibly supportive and easy to move in. She’d been initially concerned that it might be constricting, but Em had managed to tie it so it was secure but Lia was still able to breathe and move freely.

Em seemed to notice Lia’s appreciation, as she remarked, “‹‹I know, right? Super nifty. Secure? Feel good? Awesome. This dress should just slip over your head like...››” She pulled the moss-green fabric over Lia’s head as Lia raised her arms. It was loose - a little too wide to be form-fitting but not so loose that she felt she was swimming in it. The skirt fell to about mid-calf and swished around Lia’s legs pleasantly as she settled it around herself. The collar and long sleeves of her chemise gave the outfit a fun, pastoral feel and she swayed slightly, her hands in the skirt to pull it out. Em grinned at her when Lia realized she’d been caught and flushed a little.

“‹‹No, that’s totally fair. You look super cute. You’ll want this layer on, though.››” Em held up the twill-fabric and Lia watched the dress unfold itself. It was slightly longer than the overdress she was currently wearing, laced up in the front from collar to hip, and...were those _pockets?_

“‹‹Are those _pockets?››”_ Lia couldn’t quite help herself asking.

Em glanced down at the garment and then back up at Lia, “‹‹Fuck yeah, pockets! You should have a belt in here too, actually...that should go on first.››” Em laid down the thicker dress on the bed and rustled around in the items she had before pulling out the leather belt with a flourish and a quiet, “Ah hah!” She handed it to Lia who wrapped it around her waist, fastening it with a simple buckle and tucking the trailing end into a loop and then behind an attached pocket. That was _super_ handy.

“‹‹So many pockets!››” She exclaimed to Em, gesturing at the pouches she noticed all along the belt.

“‹‹It’s so good, I know!››” Em enthused back, before handing her the overdress.

Lia raised her arms and pulled the thick dress on over her head. The sleeves of the twill dress over the linen of her chemise would keep her super warm, and she started to be concerned that it might be _too_ warm. She knew she ran hot and she enjoyed the cold.

“‹‹Don’t make that face. Wandering around outside, you’re gonna want some of those layers. I’m wearing three myself.››” Em chastised a little, her voice fond and her expression teasing as she helped adjust the shoulders of the dress as Lia laced herself up the front, “‹‹It’s actually really fucking cold out there. I didn’t think it would be so bad - you know how we both are about the cold - but it’s like...real cold out there. Not fake Virginia cold.››” It was almost startling to hear the name of their home state in the middle of the Elvhen words that Em spoke.

“‹‹I’ll have to take your word for it,››” Lia said.

“‹‹Nah, you’ll experience it, I promise. We have to get up to the Chantry and, while not a long walk, is also not a short one.››” 

Lia finished up the lacing and tucked the tied ends into the dress itself so they wouldn’t flop around.

“‹‹Plus, that’s your last layer. I suggest a shawl though.››” Em held up the fabric in question. It was thick yarn woven tightly together but was a relatively light swatch of fabric. 

“What about socks and shoes?” Lia asked, flexing her toes in the fur beneath her feet. Em made a distressed noise and flopped a pair of thick wool socks around.

“ _Shit,_ ‹‹these were supposed to go on before I got you in your stays...››” She whined.

“‹‹I can still move, it can’t be _that_ hard.››” Lia said, taking the socks from Em gently, before settling herself on the bed and going about putting them on. It wasn’t _easy,_ necessarily, but it definitely wasn’t difficult. The trickiest part was that the front of her overdress was stiffened so that the cord holding the front together wouldn’t tear the fabric with strain so it made bending a smidge more difficult than it should have been, but she did manage it.

“‹‹And I got you these,››” Em said, holding a pair of boots ready for Lia. They were short - not a lot higher than ankle-length, and wide - meant to slip on and off with no ties or fastenings. Already, Lia loved them. They were supple leather, clearly not brand new, but they didn’t smell bad, and while they seemed worn in, they weren’t worn out. The soles were solid and the insulation from the wool socks and the thick leather should adequately keep her toes from catching frostbite. Which was good, in the long run, she mused absently as she tucked her feet into the boots and shimmied so that they settled properly.

“‹‹Are they alright? Do they fit? We might be able to get you a pair that’s yours-yours, like made-for-you yours, if they don’t.››” Em fretted, her hands flapping about as she gestured in front of herself as she spoke. 

Lia smiled, pulling her arms out and examining her whole outfit. It was flattering. She had noticed she was not as thin as the elves from the game, which Em more closely resembled. She hadn’t had a chance to see many other elves since waking up but the ones she had seen were also slight and willowy, where Lia’s limbs were more sturdy and her figure more substantial. Lia was smaller than she’d been on earth, though she wondered why it was that her body hadn’t changed as much as Em’s when they arrived, “‹‹It’s perfect, Em. Thank you!››” She pulled her friend in for a tight hug and Em went easily into it, wrapping her own arms around her friend as she relaxed a little.

They pulled away after a long second and Lia straightened her clothes, her hands going up to her hair as a natural instinct to work on that next. The braid was still tight, but she kind of wanted it all up off her neck - especially as, even in the braid, it still hung to her knees. She looked to Em, whose hair was tied out of the way somehow, but she hadn’t paid attention to how, exactly, it was done.

Em saw her fussing, “‹‹Right? No elastics! They’ve got some pretty good string though.››” She produced a thin leather cord from one of the pockets on her belt, “‹‹Plus I’ve gotten surprisingly good with these, you just gotta wrap it real tight.››” Em rummaged through her pockets some more, “‹‹Plus with one of _these_ bad boys,››” she held up what looked like a yarn needle or a tapestry needle made of bone, “‹‹You can pretty much do anything. It’s been _amazing_ _.››”_ She looked legitimately excited about the situation. Lia vaguely remembered Em going through a phase where she was obsessed with historical hairstyles and recreation, and realized this was probably actually very exciting for her friend. 

Lia smiled and shook her head a little at Em, “‹‹It’s alright, I’ve done the long hair thing for ages. Let me just...››” She wrapped the braid around itself until it coiled at the back of her neck, keeping the tension as tight as she could before she tucked the end of the braid under the bun itself, the weight of it holding the entire thing up at the back of her neck, “Ta-dah!” She said, flourishing her arms to show it off. Em giggled and pushed her shoulder a little, putting her hair ties and needle back into her pockets on her belt.

“‹‹Showoff. Come on, let’s get you to the Chantry to start a whole heretical movement. Cassandra’s waiting.››” Em grinned impishly at Lia who rolled her eyes fondly and returned the grin before following the smaller woman out the door.

Lia had a sudden flash of panic as she remembered the mass of people who would be waiting outside of the cabin, watching her walk all the way up to the Chantry doors. She held her breath subconsciously as Em pushed down the latch on the door to the cabin and pulled it open. 

Lia exhaled in a noise of shock and confusion when she stepped outside to a quiet, empty space between three buildings - one of which was the building she and Em had just exited. There were people bustling around, going this way and that with their tasks, looking busy but not harried. Chatter babbled through the echo-y spaces like a brook in the middle of a forest. Lia turned a confused glance to Em at the deviation from the normal storyline.

Em shrugged and gave a wry, almost bashful smile, “‹‹I’ll explain later.››” She took Lia’s hand and pulled her down the pathway through the village and towards the chantry. Finally they were in front of the Chantry and Em pushed open the heavy wooden door and led the way inside.

Stone floors and walls were bracketed with wooden embellishments leading all the way up to the cathedral-like ceiling made of rafters and arches to hold up the Chantry’s roof. The pressing quiet, despite the echoing of people shuffling around, was awe-inspiring, like an old chapel or a cathedral on a Monday. Em touched her on the arm and Lia realized she’d been gaping at the architecture. She looked back at her friend, who waved her arm in a “follow me” motion as they walked back towards what would later become the war room at Haven.

Muffled shouting came through the heavy wood door. Em pressed her lips together in an awkward close-mouthed grimace. Lia winced and nodded, reaching out to push the door open and let the both of them into the room.

* * *

Em let Lia walk into the room before her - knowing that her presence would cause more of a stir than Em’s own. Em was a little done having everyone stare at her as she walked by, whispering and using her new title. It was super uncomfortable, especially as she couldn’t understand most of what was said, generally. She’d gotten pretty good over the past few days, picking up some useful phrases and was able to understand more as long as she pictured the sentences as words in her head. It also helped when people spoke slowly, but so few people did and Em was getting pretty good at figuring out what rapid speech meant through context alone.

She felt badly that her friend was going to have to become some mythological figure with a title and a following. It wasn’t Lia’s favorite thing in the world, leadership, and Em was very glad she could be here for her friend to help out. That was the one nice thing about having been raised to deity-touched figurehead, afterall. Despite the weird looks and the whispers and the fucking _name._ Why was there _always_ a _name?_

Chancellor Roderick’s voice came blaring in through Em’s thoughts as they entered the room, “Chain her!” Em startled from her position just behind Lia’s right shoulder and stepped forwards.“I want the elf prepared for travel to the capitol for trial.”

“What? No!” She snapped at Roderick, “Chancellor.” She scowled at the man, disappointed in his reaction to Lia entering the back room of the chantry.

Chancellor Roderick had the good sense to look chastised. Cassandra called off the guards with a curt, “Disregard the Chancellor and leave us.” The guards saluted and left, squeezing past the two elves to leave the room and close the door behind them.

“We must follow the proper procedures for this! She is a suspect in the Divine’s murder!” Roderick exclaimed, more to Em than to anyone else in the room. Em continued to look at him with great disapproval.

“Chancellor-Roderig. Please.” She said, sighing softly at the man, “Is no danger. Only to help.” She explained calmly, gesturing back and forth between herself and Lia, who was looking increasingly befuddled and concerned by the exchange.

“But the _protocols.”_

“There is no precedent for this sort of situation, Chancellor.” Leliana piped in, “Though we have stabilized the Breach, it’s still a threat we need to consider carefully for our next steps.” She smirked slightly as she delivered her next cutting remark, “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live.”

“I? Am a suspect?”

“You and many others,” Leliana affirmed.

“But not the prisoner?”

“No.” Em said, “No one suspect here. No Sahrena, no Chancellor-Roderig.” She turned her sharp eyed look to Leliana.

“We cannot know-”

Lia piped up, “Look, pointing fingers in this room is not likely to get any of us to cooperate with one another. I appreciate your wanting to have order and follow the rules, Chancellor. But at this point in time, would it not be more beneficial to work together on closing the Breach and making sure as few people get hurt as possible?”

Em nodded beside her, glad someone with a better command of the language was speaking sense. Cassandra looked pained by all the diplomacy but nodded her agreement as well. 

“I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to her for help.”

“I…,” the Chancellor hung his head, “No, you are right. I- I apologize.”

Em nodded at the Chancellor as Cassandra continued, “The Maker has sent her to us in our darkest hour, Chancellor. It is prudent to move forward with what he has done in order to help the world.” Her voice soft and understanding in the face of the Chancellor’s reservations about the situation. To be fair, if Em were in his shoes, she’d probably be as suspicious and wary as he was.

Cassandra pulled out a large tome from a smaller table next to the bookshelves that lined the back wall. 

“This is a writ from the Divine, granting Leliana and myself authority to begin an Inquisition. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order to Thedas.”

Leliana spoke up, “The Divine’s directive was this: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers. If Chancellor Roderick will continue to stand with us - we have minimal chantry support, but we are starting from the bottom. If you stand with us as well, Lady Lavellan, we have a fighting chance at actually closing the Breach - Solas has theorized that if we add more power to the mark on your hand that we could potentially close the Breach permanently.”

“Help us fix this before it’s too late.” Cassandra finished, extending her hand.

“I’ll do my best.” Lia said, taking Cassandra’s hand in a firm handshake.

* * *

Lia and Em headed out of the War Room and towards the door to the outside in silence, the sound of their steps were muffled by the rushes woven into mats that lined the most traveled areas, creating a soft whispery sound that trailed them and accompanied their quiet contemplation. They could not risk a conversation where anyone could just walk up to them - even if most of the current population of Haven didn’t seem to have any comprehension of Elvhen, it wouldn’t do for a certain apostate mage to walk in on a private conversation between the two.

They reached the door and Em yanked it open, straining a little against the heavy wood that kept out the majority of the bitter cold. Not only were they then assaulted with the bright sunshine against white snow and the blast of frigid air, but also the sight of nearly two-hundred people lining the pathways and staring in awe at the two. Well, staring at Lia mostly, since she was their Herald of Andraste now.

There were a large contingent who were either swapping their awed gazes between the two elven women, or staring blatantly at only Em. The majority of the crowd focused mainly on Em seemed to be elven themselves, and Lia wondered not for the first time what had happened while she’d been out for the past few days.

The large congregation and the two elves stood staring at one another in a small stalemate for a moment as hushed voices echoed across the crowd, exchanging gossip. Mages and Templars alike - though few in number, the survivors who hadn’t been close enough to the Temple of Sacred Ashes to be caught in the explosion - stood in relative peace with one another as they regarded the carrier of the Anchor and her companion. Finally, after a long moment, someone in armor came up behind the two young women and sighed heavily.

“Everyone back to your business,” A voice of command said, and both Lia and Em looked over their shoulders at the man standing behind them.

Standing behind them - at around six foot tall, clad in armor and a fur-lined cape, with carefully tousled dark blond curly hair and a scar on his lip - was Commander Cullen Rutherford. 

Em would never be sure, but she _may_ have whimpered. Lia would not confirm or deny it and she was left with the uncertainty of her own embarrassment for the rest of her days. As the gathered crowd dispersed, he turned back to the two of them, nodding at them in turn.

“Lady Herald, Lady Blade.” Before sidestepping them and going down to the training grounds.

“‹‹What did he call you?››” Lia hissed at Em as the two hurried back to the cabin again to figure out what to do next, and finally get caught up on everything that was going on and what their plan of attack would be.

Em’s face flushed a bright pink, “‹‹Well, apparently killing demons single handedly is noteworthy? Also the whole ‘we traveled through the Fade’ part was a big deal. They’re convinced Andraste stood behind us, ushering us back into the world when we came through the rift.›› She shrugged a litte, “‹‹So, um, yeah. You get to be›› The-Herald-of-Andraste,” Again, Em spoke like it was a whole word - which, Lia supposed, if you only ever hear names or titles as the whole phrase, it could be difficult to think of them as a set of unrelated words separately, “‹‹And I’m›› The-Maker’s-Blade. ‹‹though sometimes it’s›› The-Blade-of-Shartan. ‹‹Varric and Chancellor-Roderig had to give me some additional lessons on Chantry specific terms quickly after that became a thing.››” Em waved her hand vaguely as they continued on towards the cabin they’d left earlier.

“‹‹Wait, backup. Varric _and_ Chancellor Roderick helped you learn Trade?››” Lia blinked as Em unlatched the door and opened it for her, ushering her inside the warm building where the fire still crackled merrily.

Once inside, Lia settled down on the bed she’d woken up on. Em placed herself in the small wooden chair at the desk across the way.

“‹‹Uh, yeah. It’s...been a long couple of days.››” Em huffed a sigh, a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face flopped with the gust of air, before landing softly against her cheek again. She scrubbed a hand over her face and through her hair, effectively tucking the wayward strand behind her ear once more, “‹‹Varric was helping me learn Trade. We were waiting for a response from his friend who knows Elvhen - I’m assuming it’s Merrill but at this point who knows who he knows, you know? Anyway, so he decided since I can read Trade I should be able to pick up on the words pretty quickly.

“‹‹So I’ve mostly been hanging out with him when I wasn’t in here with you. Solas said that Adan said it was probably good for me to leave here every so often because it wasn’t like you were _actually_ in danger, but like I was still worried so I stayed anyway. Also Varric apparently thought I needed to get out more too, completely unrelated to the Solas said Adan said thing. 

“‹‹Anyway, we were doing some lessons and there were people talking at the next table over in›› The-Singing-Maiden-Tavern ‹‹and it made him uncomfortable but I didn’t know what they were saying very well and he explained it and I realized I needed to learn some Chantry stuff. So we approached Chancellor-Roderig to see if he could help me with the more specific stuff. The titles bother Chancellor-Roderig, which, yeah I totally get. I’m not a huge fan myself.

“‹‹So, uh, I kinda telegraphed I’m not a huge fan of the titles as Varric explained it to me, I asked Chancellor-Roderig some specific questions and he did the explanation thing and I learned a lot - it is a _lot_ like Catholicism, by the way. Where was I? Oh yeah, so I learned some Chantry stuff and Chancellor-Roderig _doesn’t_ hate us. I was kinda surprised he still wanted to send you to jail, because _wow_ that’s kind of a dick move after you saved the whole village from being overrun by demons, but like, again, I guess I get it. He’s scared, wants to make sure that the fact his entire religion is falling around his ears that it’s at least _right_ _._ Anyway, at least he’s kind of on our side now.››”

Em had barely taken a breath as she exploded with all the information like a balloon filled too full. She paused for a moment as she wrapped up and took a deep inhale and exhale, like she’d just run full tilt from one end of Haven to the other. Her eyes met Lia’s briefly, waiting for a response.

“‹‹I...what?››” Was all Lia could respond with. Em gave a small, tired sigh and started over.

“‹‹You closed the rift and passed out for three days. Varric kept me company, and started teaching me Trade going off what I can read. He said yesterday he’d gotten a reply back from his friend about the Elvhen phrases we can work on together for something easier to do, by the way, so that’s super exciting. Uh, before that, though, we acquired names - you’re›› The-Herald-of-Andraste ‹‹and I’m›› The-Maker’s-Blade ‹‹and I needed to learn Chantry stuff so we went to the Chantriest fellow in the whole village and I made a friend of Chancellor-Roderig.››” 

Lia gaped at her friend, “‹‹You did all that in just three days?››”

Em glanced away, her face flushing again now that she wasn’t distracted by the flow of information pouring from her mouth as she was finally able to unload everything on the only person who could even hope to understand what was going on here, “‹‹It’s not a big deal, I mean… I helped?››” Em shrugged as though learning enough of a completely new language in three days to change the outlook of a staunch detractor against the heretical order led by someone initially believed to have killed the leader of the main religion in the region was nothing.

“‹‹You changed Roderick’s mind on the _entire Inquisition_ _,_ from vehemently against it to almost supportive. In less than three days.››”

“‹‹It wasn’t _hard._ He wasn’t really against it, just scared. I mean, _someone_ should have done something in the game, but because no one was going to I figured it was a good way to kill two birds with one stone. I learn Trade and he gets to see that we’re not scary horrible people.››” She brushed her hair back from her face again, the tail at the back of her neck low enough that some of the shorter hairs in front kept slipping forward, “‹‹I guess when you put it like that, I can see how it’s a bit quick. A lot can happen in three days, though. I almost got married to a guy I’d only known for three days, that one time, so like. This is not the weirdest thing I’ve done in my entire life.››”

Lia let out a startled giggle, “‹‹Em, you’re amazing. I love you.››”

“‹‹Aww, I love you too. But seriously, it should not have been a trick to get Chancellor-Roderig on our side. It’s super easy when you know how to deal with his type of people.››”

“‹‹It will definitely make getting the Chantry to work with us a little easier. Not that I’m sure that’s a good thing, necessarily, considering how we’re not Andrastian. But it can’t hurt.››” Lia shrugged, “‹‹You learning a whole language in three days is pretty remarkable.››”

“‹‹It’s not the whole language. I’m barely conversational.››” Em scoffed, “‹‹But what other choice did I have? Talk to Solas? Fuck no. He’s a smug bastard who’s all high-and-mighty about the elves of the past and I’m not having it.››”

“‹‹Wasn’t he your most recent romance in game?››” Lia teased, a smirk on her face. Em blushed.

“‹‹That’s irrelevant. And, also, he’s an ass who wants to destroy the world. Just because he’s really hot doesn’t mean I have to like him.››” She turned away from Lia, pouting a little.

“‹‹So you still think he’s cute? Aww, how sweet!››” Lia laughed as Em picked up a pencil from the table and chucked it at Lia. It missed by a wide margin, barely crossing the room before it clattered to Lia’s feet.

“Diana rahn!” Em wrinkled her nose as she told her friend to stuff it, before breaking out into laughter herself. The two dissolved into giggles for a little while before composing themselves.

Lia shook her head as she continued with a smile on her face, “‹‹But seriously though, why _is_ everyone in Thedas so attractive?››”


	2. Lunch Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lia and Em discuss their plans for that whole...being in Thedas thing they're currently doing.
> 
> Oh and then they eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? I'm posting as many chapters as I have written so far all at once?? Again??? Yeah. There's 6 chapters ready to post and I figure I'll just...post them all at once. Because I have no concept of time. Or schedules. I don't think y'all will have too many complaints?
> 
> If you do you know how to yell at me :D
> 
> As before, all text within the ‹‹ and ›› brackets is in Elvhen, translations at the end of the chapter.
> 
> I haven't figured out how to make sure that the Elvhen for the first chapter is at the bottom of the first chapter yet. I'm working on it and hopefully will figure it out.

After the two had finished gushing about the absolute travesty that was the fact that literally everyone in the inner circle was just so _attractive,_ how dare they, their conversation meandered to their situation.

“‹‹So I remember most of the plot details and some of the universe lore.››” Em said, flapping her hand around in front of herself as she spoke, “‹‹But we need a _plan.››”_

“‹‹Agreed. I started one while hiking up to the rift with Cassandra yesterday - I got to getting the horses before we were too busy for me to think about it anymore.››” 

Em gave Lia a confused look before shaking her head, “‹‹Three days ago, but yes. What did you have in mind?››”

Lia blinked, reminded that she’d been unconscious for so long before she continued, “‹‹Well, I was planning with the thought of being by myself. If we’re both here, we might be able to do something a little more elaborate. Plus now that there’s going to be a little more Chantry support than in the game, I think it’s worth factoring that in.››”

“‹‹Agreed. Clearly the Templars and Mages are still a _huge_ issue that will need to be addressed. I’ll bet you anything Mother-Shissell is going to be near Redcliffe still.››” Em’s accent struggled with the soft G of Giselle as she spoke, but she soldiered on, “‹‹It’ll be worth seeing what can be done out there, regardless. These are real people who are really in danger with the fighting and destruction going on.››” She settled back in her chair, crossing one leg over her knee so it lay like a table as she gestured.

“‹‹That’s fair. It might be worth it to wait and see what happens with the changes in motion so far. But what I was thinking was if we can get the Mages and the Templars both on our side, it would be super beneficial.››”

“‹‹How so? I mean I guess I could see where both adding power to the mark and dampening the magic of the rift simultaneously could be really powerful and make the breach easier to close...››” Em trailed off.

“‹‹And also, Corypheus wouldn’t have _either_ to draw from.››” Lia added, feeling a little smug as Em’s face lit up with realization.

“‹‹Oh my god, you’re _right_ _._ That’s fucking _brilliant,_ Lia!››” Em crowed, clapping her hands, “‹‹You’re so smart, _shit_ _,_ that’s so fucking good. We take his whole army out from under him, and he can’t do _shit_ _.››”_ It had been a while since Lia had played through the game, sure, but she was really familiar with the plot and knew this could work if they could get both sides of the war on the side of the Inquisition.

Lia continued, “‹‹The trick is getting both the Mages and the Templars to work with us.››” 

Em sobered at the thought. “‹‹Shit, you’re right. Once one side knows we’re talking to the other, they’ll just drop off the face of the planet, won’t they?››” Em hummed as she thought it through, “‹‹I mean, we’ve got _time_ don’t we? We can figure out a plan for that. And all else fails, we’ll get one or the other, right?››”

“‹‹Exactly. We either win because we know what’s going to happen already, or we win because we’ve outsmarted the big bad before he even shows his stupid, blighted face.››” Lia grinned. 

“‹‹There’s no way it works out, but _fuck_ if we could make it happen that would be _amazing_ _.››”_ Em said, shaking her head a little, “‹‹I really don’t think we can make too many plans until we see what kind of timeline we’re working with and what things change based on what’s already different. I’m not a huge believer in the butterfly effect but I’m also not one to dismiss a theory before we have a chance to prove it. There are things like Chancellor-Roderig wanting to throw you in jail that are the same, but I was able to keep the masses from crowding around the cabin when we made our way up to the Chantry. So we need to figure out what’s able to change and what’s set in stone.››” She nodded, like she was settled on the idea.

“‹‹I can absolutely understand that. What else do you think we can plan for at this point?››” Lia asked, on the off chance there was anything else they could do to mitigate any potential snags.

“‹‹The only other thing I can think of is making sure we collect the whole set of companions. I don’t want to miss anyone. I mean, we’ve already got Lady-Cassandra, Varric, and Solas. When do the others come into play?››”

Lia shrugged, “‹‹I’m pretty sure it’s not until after we’ve been to Val Royeaux that we have any opportunities to look anyone up. Vivienne and Sera, if I remember correctly?››”

Em nodded, “‹‹Yep, Blackwall’s in the Hinterlands.››”

“‹‹Yeah, we definitely need to make sure we pick up Thom pretty early on.››” Lia nodded, “‹‹How is it we know Bull is in the Storm Coast?››”

“‹‹I think Krem’s gotta come meet us first - I’m pretty sure that happens after Val Royeaux as well. Then Cole and Dorian are with the Templars and mages respectively.››”

Lia sighed heavily, “‹‹It’s as good as we can get and at least we kind of know what’s going on.››”

“Tuna alas’nira’elan! ‹‹No surprises here. When people betray us, we’re going to know who it is and when it happens beforehand.››” Em gave a wry smile, rolling her eyes briefly.

The two were startled by a knock on the door, “Ashael? It’s me.” Came the call. Em jumped up and rushed to the door with a smile on her face.

“Varric!” She greeted, her tongue clicking on the hard K sound so it was almost a G, as she let him inside, “Come, come!” She tugged his hand gently to pull the dwarf inside before closing the door behind him.

“You’re in good spirits. I heard our friend was awake.”

“Friend! Yes, Sahrena awake.” Em nodded, fervently as she gestured at Lia. Lia waved from her position on the bed, standing as Varric came further into the cabin.

“Nice to see you again, Varric.” Lia said, smiling, though she felt a little nervous. She was familiar with these people but not _familiar_ with them. It was weird to know someone’s secrets and have them not have told you.

“Glad you’re up and about. Looks like you’ve been enjoying the sights at least a little?” The sentence was more a question than a statement and Lia nodded.

“Little trip to the Chantry. Had to see a woman about an Inquisition.” She gave a little lopsided smile at her dumb joke and Varric laughed warmly.

“You remind me of a good friend of mine. Worst sense of humor this side of the Vimmarks, but somehow the funniest guy I know.” Lia and Em exchanged an amused glance, “Now, his sister’s a little more dour - well, the tall one is anyway. Bethany’s a doll.”

“I’ll bet.” Lia said, trying and failing to hide her amusement, “What can we do for you, Varric?”

“It’s about the time I usually steal Ashael away for lunch - now that you’re here, too, I figured I’d have two pretty elves on my arm to join me at the tavern,” He winked widely, clearly intending to be silly. Lia flushed at the remark, snorting a breath of laughter through her nose and shaking her head a little at his antics.

“I think that would be lovely, Serrah Tethras. Do lead the way?” She gestured to the door and he held out his arm as if he expected her to loop her own through his elbow. Em giggled a little as Lia managed to blush a deeper red at the action.

“Is lunch, yes?” She asked Varric who nodded.

“You got it, Kitten. Let’s see if Flissa has more roast from yesterday.” He laughed as Em nearly sprinted out of the cabin, hastily throwing the cowl she’d discarded upon reentry over her shoulders as she threw open the door.

“Come!” She said, hopping at the doorway, “Flissa has best food.”

Lia laughed, taking Varric’s arm after all and letting him lead her out the door and back into the blinding white light of the outside. She briefly wondered if sunglasses had been invented in Thedas yet, and if they had, where she might get some, as she winced at the bright light.

“Em! ‹‹Wait up!››” Lia called as Em practically bounded down the lane before stopping again.

“‹‹It’s not my fault you’re slow!››” She replied with a laugh.

“Hard to believe she’s considered the avatar of Shartan’s legendary sword.” Varric shook his head as he muttered to himself. Lia blinked down at him in surprise. He looked a little sheepish that she’d heard him, but he explained at her curious glance, “It’s, uh, apparently because you’re both Dalish, the dissonant verses are making a resurgence. There’s a story that used to be in the Chant ages ago about an elf named Shartan who allied with Andraste and fought Tevinter. She named him her champion and the legend says she gifted her mother’s sword to him. He named it Glandivalis. He died before the elves settled in the Dales -”

“Oh, I know that story.” Lia said, the flashes of someone telling the story near a campfire late at night, surrounded by children with the adults roaming around the edges, pretending they weren’t listening just as intently. “It’s a bit different, but the basic points are similar enough. He’s the reason we became the Dalish. They say the Archon Hessarian stole the sword from his body after he tried to save the shem leader, Andraste.” Lia rattled off like she was reciting a memorized passage from a book. And it felt like she had memorized those facts. It was weird because she didn’t remember reading or learning about it but that image of the campfire and the storyteller kept flashing through her mind. What on earth?

“That would...explain a lot.” Varric muttered, “Friend of mine thought we’d picked up the sword from a demon we killed. She thought it was the sword from the legends, but we never got it checked out. I think she’s still got it. Anyway, apparently whatever magic or divine power the people believe was imbued in that blade when Andraste gave it to Shartan, they think it’s landed in your friend there.” Varric shrugged, “I mean, I’m not going to tell them no. I saw what she did. Crazy little shit, isn’t she?”

Lia snorted a laugh despite her continued confusion over where her memories were coming from, “That’s why I love her.” She shook her head as Em turned around and gave an exaggerated sigh from the door of the tavern.

“‹‹Stop flirting already and get over here, I’m _starving_ _.››”_ She fussed as the pair approached, and Lia was quite happy to blame the heat in her cheeks on the cold weather.

“‹‹I was not-!››” Lia protested as Em ushered the two through the door, waving at Flissa as they entered with a bright smile. The tavern woman looked a little startled, but smiled back and shouted a greeting.

“I'll get you something warm to eat.” She waved them to a table in the corner, “We’ve got druffalo roast from yesterday still. I’ve made sandwiches.” Flissa’s light voice carried over the bustle in the tavern, which was pretty full. No one seemed to be unsettled by Em and Lia’s presence, which was nice. Lia had been concerned that there would be more scenes like earlier outside of the Chantry and was not looking forward to it. That no one seemed to take notice of her at all was very reassuring. Em led the way to the table that apparently she and Varric had claimed as their own.

“‹‹Oh no!›› Em said as Lia and Varric approached the table, “‹‹Shit I gotta let Flissa know you don’t drink.››” Before Lia could say anything, Em was scrambling around the chairs she’d already pulled out and forgotten to push back in, hurrying to Flissa before the woman could pour too many drinks from the ale cask.

Lia shook her head with amusement and settled down in one of the sturdy wooden chairs. Varric watched Em stumble and stagger her way to the bar around people and tables and chairs with all the grace of a newborn gazelle. 

“How the fuck did she manage to take down the Pride demon when she moves like that?” Varric asked, laughing a little, “It’s like she’s a whole different person.”

“I don’t think any of us will ever have the answer to that question,” Lia replied, scooting her chair into the table as far as she could.

“I meant to ask when I was invited in, how are you holding up, Herald?”

Lia winced at the moniker, “Please don’t. Just Sahrena is fine.” 

Varric snickered a little, but nodded. “Alright then, Sahrena. Are you holding up alright? I mean, you went from being the most wanted criminals in Thedas to being named the Herald of Andraste - and still a wanted criminal in most of Thedas. It’s just that most people would have spread that out over more than one day.” He chuckled.

“As I understand it, it’s been three days.” Lia said, a wry smile twisting her lips as she huffed a laugh through her nose, “Yeah I’m not exactly _thrilled_ with everything that’s happened so far. But I’m not in chains on my way to Val Royeaux so there’s that.” She shrugged a little, “And, also, not dead. Being not dead is a good thing, I understand.”

Varric laughed at the remark, almost seeming surprised at the humor she’d given the slightly dark statement, “You know, I think we’ll get along pretty well, Sahrena.” She smiled, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Me too. What hear?” Em said, sidling up to the table, a metal teapot held carefully by the handle with a thick pad wrapped around it and a good-sized cup in her other hand. She set them down gently in front of Lia, “‹‹It’s tea, or so I’ve been led to believe. It smelled nice.››” She explained. Lia took a deep inhale of the steam coming out of the spout of the pot. It smelled delightful - and familiar. 

“‹‹This is a Dalish blend...››” Lia murmured, without thinking about it, “‹‹Dorf’tarlan, my favorite.››” 

Em brightened. “‹‹Well at least we’ve got something we know you enjoy! How'd you know it’s Dalish?››” She tilted her head to the side, her long ponytail falling over her shoulder as she did so. She looked like a bird or a dog - bird-dog? Those were a thing right? - with her head all cocked to the side.

“‹‹Dunno. I just...know.››” Lia shrugged, shaking off the feeling as she poured the tea into the cup, the dark liquid a warm amber color as it filled the container. She set the teapot down, wrapped her hands around the cup - the heat seeped through but not so much that it burned her, it was just pleasant and warm - and lifted it to her face to inhale the steam again, a happy smile on her face as she closed her eyes and enjoyed it. Lia took a tentative sip, the tea still very hot, and hummed happily as she set the cup back down, her hands still wrapped around it as she looked back at Varric.

Varric coughed and glanced away as she caught his eyes - he looked like he’d been distracted by something behind her and she found herself mirroring Em’s gesture of tilting her head to the side in question.

“So, Kitten, you were saying something when you came up?” Varric addressed Em.

“Name not ‘Gittin’. Dunno what ‘Gittin’. Name Ashael.” She stated, rolling her eyes with a wide smile. Apparently they’d had this conversation a few times, “And Sahrena said was glad to hear. So I am too, but what hear?” She grinned, scooting her chair in and sitting cattywampus from the table so she could see out into the crowd, the wall at her back. 

_She never did like people being able to sneak up behind her_ _,_ Lia thought, but couldn’t figure out where that thought came from. They’d hung out a couple times before now, but there was never any mention of Em’s preferences for sitting with her back to a wall during those meetups, or in their conversations online. _Weird ._

“Varric seems to think he and I will get along.” Lia piped in, bringing her cup to her lips once more, blowing on the steam gently. She felt a tingle on her lips as the air came out cool - cooler than normal for blowing on something. It was gentle, a familiar movement and feeling, like she did this all the time. The tea when she sipped it next was a reasonable temperature and didn’t threaten to burn her. Em was staring, blinking widely.

“‹‹Your eyes changed color when you did that.››” She said, excitedly, “‹‹Like Merlin but obviously not _Merlin_ _._ Do it again!››”

“‹‹Then my tea will be too cold.››” Lia replied, a hint of a whine in her voice, “‹‹We can try again later in the cabin.››”

“‹‹That was so _cool_ _.››”_ Em enthused. Lia felt a happy bubble in her chest.

“Well, I _do_ think we’ll get along. You remind me of some good friends and I think they’d like you too.”

“Hopefully one day I can meet them,” Lia said, earnestly. If she and Em were able to pull off their loosely sketched plan they came up with earlier, she wouldn’t get the natural, in-game chance to meet Hawke or anyone else, but maybe they could swing a visit when it was all done?

* * *

The roast druffalo sandwiches were delicious - it was just like roast beef. There was a spicy horseradish-like sauce on it and a melted cheese on crusty bread. Em wiggled happily in her chair as she ate.

“So, Ashael told me you were helping her learn Trade?” Lia asked Varric as they also munched on their meal. Em kept her ear open for anything she needed to respond to, but she was content letting Lia and Varric talk while she ate. It was nice to not have to let it get cold while she learned the language or had to write notes to Varric about whatever he was asking. She’d always found it difficult to multitask with meals.

Varric grinned, “I’m doing my best. She’s a pretty smart kid.” Em was pretty sure Varric had just insulted her, but at this point it was half of their relationship to take small digs at one another while staying away from anything that was actually hurtful. She knew she could come off as a little childish and her face that made her look about 12 didn’t help.

“Well, considering she had no grasp of the language before the Conclave…” Lia trailed off.

“Knew some!” Em chimed in finally, indignant as she chewed her bite of sandwich, “Knew knife. Knew food.” 

“Which is always a great starting point,” Varric said, the laugh hiding in the back of his voice as he tried to appease Em.

Em gestured with her sandwich, “Best start point is food and weapon. All else is _pah_ _,”_ She flicked her free hand absently, taking another sizable bite of the giant sandwich. It was already over halfway gone.

“Stop talking with your mouth full, ‹‹Varric’s right, you are like a kid.››” Lia giggled as Em threw her an offended look, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at her friend until after she’d washed down her bite of food with a bit of ale. 

Finally sticking her tongue out earned her a peal of laughter from both Lia and Varric. Em felt both sufficiently teased and also like she’d won something. It was nice that people were laughing again. It’d been really somber right after the rift closing and people were just starting to realize that the danger was mostly abated for now. There were still problems elsewhere but the most immediate dangers had been solved.

She grinned at the two before taking another bite of her sandwich and realizing she didn’t have anything to worry about right this second. Lia was awake and fine, there was good food and drink, there wasn’t anything pressing happening just yet. She could just enjoy the company and the fact that she was still fucking _alive._

That in and of itself was a little special considering the battering she’d taken a few days ago. Those wounds could have killed her - and should have, or would have if she’d been anywhere that didn’t have modern medicine, or, failing that, magic. You know, like Thedas.

She took a second to shake the thought from her head as she watched Lia and Varric talk animatedly, still getting to know one another. Em had a head start on introductions to people and making friends, so she was more than happy to give her brain a break from having to think of the correct words to say when she spoke. Learning a new language was _hard_ _._ She’d never had the head for it back in the real world, only picking up bits and pieces - maybe a phrase or two here and there - of other languages she found interesting at the time. 

But being immersed in a world where hardly anyone else spoke the language she knew? Em was picking it up quickly, but not quickly enough. There were whole sounds she couldn’t make when she spoke, her words would get trapped in her head as she tried to put the new ones in the order she thought they should go in only to have people stare at her until she realized that Elvhen word order wasn’t the same as Trade. Or that she’d missed a word or two that weren’t necessary in Elvhen and it made the sentence in Trade nearly indecipherable.

Having finished her sandwich, Em leaned on her elbows, resting her chin in her hands as she watched Lia and Varric talk. Varric talked with his hands a bit like Em did, but his movements were more staccato, creating block shapes whereas Em tended to make vague gestures in the space between her and the other person, like she was playing with smoke and Varric was actually building an environment for the words to exist in. 

Lia moved her whole body as she spoke, her hands and arms doing very little, though she would also gesture with her hands a little. She would rock forward when getting invested in telling something, or listening very intently. She would lean back when she was laughing or making a wider gesture to indicate intensity. She’d shift side to side if her words took on a more sing-song quality.

The conversation between Lia and Varric was like watching two people dance and it was _fascinating_ _._ She caught a few words as the two spoke, but since Em had decided she wasn’t going to try to listen and learn anything tonight, it was like letting her brain turn all the way off and all she heard were sounds like music. It was nice.

She hummed, closing her eyes as she listened but didn’t _listen_ _._ She could finally relax for a little while. Everything was going to be okay because Lia was awake, they were safe in Haven, and nothing pressing was happening just yet. All her worries were for the future and she didn’t need to be concerned, if only for this brief period of time.

“ _Shit_ _,_ did she fall asleep?”

“I think so. She looks exhausted.”

“I’ll bet. She didn’t handle you being out so well. I could barely get her to step away to eat. Adan was saying something earlier today about being thankful she’d been so attentive and willing to take the evening shifts of monitoring you - I don’t know that she’s slept a whole lot since you closed the rift…”

“Oh, _Em_ _.”_ Em shifted a little, inhaling sharply as she blinked her eyes open.

“Hm? ‹‹What did I miss?››” She mumbled, lifting her head up from where it had collapsed on her folded arms in front of her on the table. 

“‹‹Nothing, you’re fine. Varric was just telling me you’ve had a rough couple of days.››” Lia’s hand was petting through Em’s hair and it felt very nice. She hummed again and closed her eyes.

“‹‹Well don’t let me interrupt you - I’m just relaxing.››”

“‹‹Clearly.››” Lia’s voice sounded amused but Em had closed her eyes again and was listening to the rise and fall of chatter in the tavern behind the softer talking between Varric and Lia. Lia continued petting her hair, and Em just let herself float in the darkness behind her eyes.

She wasn’t sure exactly how much later it was that she was shifted with a quiet, “Come on, Em. Let’s get back to the cabin.” 

“Damn, she’s out, huh?” A chuckle from Varric, “Sahrena’s right, Kitten. Let’s get you to a real bed for a bit.” She protested with a grunt as two sets of hands shifted her in her chair.

“‹‹I’m up, I’m up.››” She flapped her hand loosely at the two of them as she scrubbed her eyes with her other one. Em stretched as she sat up, “‹‹Fuckin’ needed that, though. Ugh…››” She yawned widely and blinked at Lia and Varric who were standing next to her, “Ar abelas, ‹‹I didn’t mean to fall asleep.››”

Lia offered her hand and Em took it, hoisting herself to her feet and stumbling a little, “‹‹It’s alright. You were tired.››” She said, putting out a steadying hand as Em overbalanced a little.

“‹‹Still am, apparently››” Em laughed a little, shaking the sleep out of her head,

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere comfortable to sleep.” Varric placed his hand on Em’s back as Lia wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Em leaned on Lia, her own arm going around Lia’s waist as she snuggled close while they walked out of the tavern, Varric’s hand leaving her back as they couldn’t stand three-abreast. 

They finally arrived and Lia deposited Em on the bed with a gentle _fwump_ of the covers as she settled into the mattress. Em shook her head and stood up almost immediately, “‹‹No, no, the bed is yours, Lia. I’ve got my cot. It’s just-››” She gestured to the cot that was standing upright in the corner next to the fireplace. “‹‹-It’s over there. Just need to pull it down and we’re good. Got my blanket and everything.››” 

“Shit, Kitten, is this what you’ve been sleeping on? No wonder you’re exhausted.” Varric whistled low as he watched Em remove the cot from its place and shuffle around to find her blanket, removing her cowl and setting it at the head of the cot like a pillow. “We need to talk to someone about getting you a better bed.”

“No better bed. Is fine.” Em yawned again, settling onto the sturdy cot and beginning to shuck off her boots, “Is not bed fault for no sleep.” She shrugged, “And still no ‘Gitten’.”

“Quit acting like one and maybe we’ll see about getting you a different nickname, Kitten,” Varric mumbled, a small smile on his face as Em settled herself down on the cot and yanked off her boots unceremoniously, “I guess I’ll leave you both to your evening. I tend to stick close to the tavern, if you need anything, Lady Sahrena.” He bowed with a wink, causing Lia to roll her eyes fondly.

“Please, the whole ‘Lady’ business is going to get old _real_ fast.” She shook her head and walked Varric to the door.

“As you say, _my lady_ _.”_

“Oh for-!” A snort of a laugh and Em could hear the two of them shuffling like Lia had shoved Varric’s shoulder - a move Em employed often enough to be familiar with the sounds he made when the impact hit and he pretended to be harmed or offended at the gesture. But Em had stopped watching, her eyes falling closed again as she settled onto her side and quickly dropped off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, direct from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true):
> 
> Tuna alas’nira’elan!: Tuna - Punish, alas'nira'elan - dancer; I've done some work on these, y'all. This one is meant to be an Elvhen version of "Damn skippy!" or "Punish the dancer!" I've *tried* you guys.  
> Dorf’tarlan: Grey Lady, meant to be the same as Lady Grey tea - but I needed to make it Thedas so here we are.
> 
> __
> 
> This is the chapter I start laying down a lot of groundwork for the story ahead. There's still more infodump coming so, be aware. Worldbuilding is my favorite thing and I try very hard not to let it take over *too* much. Whether or not I was successful is still up for debate but I got the go ahead from my beta readers so we're doing this thing XD


	3. Getting to Know You - Getting to Know Me, Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lia goes on a mini adventure and starts realizing that this might not be as straight forward as she and Em initially believed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the beginning of the game - running around, talking to villagers, figuring out the mechanics and hoping they don't add too much more than was in the tutorial section.
> 
> And an excellent time to just shove ALL the information in while I've got everyone stuck here muwahahahahahaha
> 
> *cough*
> 
> ahem...
> 
> Text between the ‹‹ and ›› brackets is Elvhen, translations at the bottom of the chapter.

Em had fallen asleep well before the sun had gone down, the stresses of the past several days apparently having weighed heavily on her. So, given that she now had nothing to do and no plans for the evening, Lia decided to explore Haven a little.

She snagged the shawl she’d worn on their initial outing to the Chantry and made sure Em was properly covered by the blanket she had tossed over herself. She also checked that the fire was going comfortably warm - as best she could tell, anyway - before making her way out the door quietly, being sure it latched behind her. She would have to figure out how to make sure the fire in the hearth didn’t go out at any point, because it would likely get cold in there and she was fairly certain that two Dalish elves would be anticipated to know how to keep the fire going on their own. Despite her and Em’s distinct lack of knowledge on the subject.

A few flurries danced around in the late afternoon light as a brisk breeze blew between the buildings. The sunlight shining from between two peaks glinted off of them and gave the appearance of glitter falling through the sky. Lia smiled as she took in a deep breath of the crisp mountain air and sighed, stomping her feet a little to make sure her toes stayed warm, before she set off down the path. A few people nodded at her, not seeming to take special note of who she was just yet, which was more than fine with her. She was truly dreading the moment that she was no longer able to walk around unrecognized. As it was, she drew a few looks since she was an unfamiliar face, but nothing that indicated actual worship just yet. 

She veered right, towards the great double doors in the wall surrounding the town. She wondered if it was new construction between the events of Origins or if it had been a part of the settlement prior to then and just hadn’t been something the developers of the games had thought of. She supposed she could ask someone, but wasn’t quite ready to draw attention to herself just yet. Maybe she could discuss it with Varric or Cassandra later.

Varric had been a joy to talk to - as she knew he would be. His personality and mannerisms drew her to him and she’d loved the dwarf since his first appearance in the games. The fact that he was more than conventionally attractive was definitely not a deterrent to enjoying his company, either. The little butterflies she’d gotten occasionally while talking to him had been exciting - she’d never really had a lot of crushes on people in the real world and wasn’t familiar with the feeling occurring while actively interacting with the person she found appealing, but definitely didn’t mind it. It was pleasant and fun and she knew she had no chance with Varric, so it was _safe,_ too. He was kind and genuinely seemed to care about everyone, which, well, was definitely a rarity. At least on Earth, anyway. 

The gate out of the town was open, so she wandered through, seeing where the meagre collection of soldiers had set up their tents and were going through their afternoon routines. Well, she assumed it was routine, having never been in a medieval-adjacent army camp before. There were a couple templars around - she caught sight of a man standing apart from the rest, watching and talking with a couple of the soldiers as they came over and she realized it was Cullen. He looked a lot more relaxed around the soldiers than he had facing down the nosey villagers in front of the Chantry - though Lia supposed that made a lot of sense. As she wandered past, she caught his eye and realized she should probably wave or something. She raised a hand from her shawl and gave a friendly flick of the wrist with a smile. 

Cullen startled a bit, straightening before shaking himself minutely and waving back, an awkward half-smile on his face. She was passing relatively closely, so he greeted her with a quick, “Evening, Herald.”

Lia decided to change course, not having had a real direction in mind, just planning on exploring for a bit, and wandered over closer to Cullen. “Good evening - ah, I don’t think we’ve met?” She realized she probably shouldn’t just start calling people by name without having been introduced formally first. They might find it a bit odd and she wasn’t quite ready to start drawing any attention to herself, let alone the attention that knowing things she oughtn’t would bring.

“Commander Cullen Rutherford, at your service, my lady.” He bowed a little, raising his right hand to his chest in salute - at least the ten years between Origins and now had gotten rid of the awkward, crossed-arms-over-the-chest-and-bowing salute from _that_ game. The single-arm chest salute was a smidge less awkward.

“Just Sahrena is fine, Commander Rutherford.” She said, falling back on patterns from home where you used a person’s surname instead of their first name when addressing them with their title.

“Ah, then, Sahrena, Cullen is acceptable,” He gave her that slightly stiff half-smile and she realized the reason he was only smiling with half his mouth was due to the scar tissue on his upper lip.

“Alright then, Cullen.” She grinned, a little bit of a laugh huffing through her chest as she spoke, “I appreciate your assistance earlier at the Chantry. I don’t know that I’ve ever had that many eyes on me at once before.”

Cullen flushed and suddenly dropped all formality at the mention of his address to the people of Haven from earlier, “Right, yes. Well, the Blade- I mean...Lady Blade - I mean-”

“Her name is Ashael,” Lia prompted so the poor man could move on past his stammering.

“Right, yes. Ashael, she’s been. That is, her assistance - We’ve talked, no I mean. We were introduced. Sort of.” He coughed and scrubbed the back of his neck, “She didn’t seem comfortable with the attention so I figured I might- that is to say, I figured having so many people… Lady Bla- Ashael made it clear she wasn’t looking to have a lot of fanfare around your awakening and I-,” Good _god_ this poor man was so nervous. What on earth was making him so flustered? He’d been fine seconds ago before she’d brought up…

_Oh ._

Lia suppressed a snicker, “It was very welcome, thank you, Cullen.” She interjected, hoping to save the fumbling commander from his own wayward mouth, “I’m sure Ashael appreciated it just as much as I did.”

“Do you thi- I mean, yes, well. All in a day’s...day?” 

Lia couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped, “Don’t worry, Commander. I won’t tell anyone you’ve got a crush on my friend.” Cullen’s entire face fell.

“Is it that obvious?” Cullen’s voice was defeated as he asked. A young woman passing by shook her head and stopped.

“Rutherford, you’re the worst secret keeper in Ferelden if that’s what you were going for,” She muttered, catching Lia’s eye and winking. Lia laughed again and the woman came to a halt beside them.

“Pick, that’s not-”

“ _Commander_ _,_ you’ve been giving the poor girl moon eyes since you saw her after the rift closed, you daft ninny. Anyone’s known you ever knows you’re weak for a pair of pretty eyes - and girl has a set of peepers likes of which even I find myself a little smitten with. At least you’ve picked someone with a sense of humor this time - last one you latched onto was a right stone wall.” Pick snickered, glancing at Lia again, who was loving it.

“How would you know- I mean, not that- you can’t _insult-”_

“It’s such a shame she went for that pirate lady, whotserface.” Pick spoke over Cullen, “But that’s alright. Ashael’s a right sight more willing to play cards without her friends there.” Pick turned to Lia, “My name’s Meg Pick. I walked up to the littlest rift with the Lady Blade. I know a bit of Elvhen from my da so I could kinda help her talk to the other blokes in the group.” Pick held out her hand and Lia took it, giving it a firm shake. The woman’s leather gloves were cool on Lia’s bare skin and well worn in, “I know the Commander from Kirkwall. He was a right prick back then but he’s done opened up a bit since.”

“Pick, this is entirely-”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Serrah,” Lia greeted with a huge grin, pointedly speaking over the poor commander with a wink, “Were you a templar as well?”

“Nah, worked under Captain Aveline. I’m originally from Ferelden as well, but from the northerniest bits. We did work together a bit.”

Cullen finally gave up with a heavy sigh, throwing his hands up and then back down to his sides, one resting on his sword as he shook his head.

“Anyway, at least this one’s not a mage. He keeps going for the magic users. I keep telling him it’s not a smart move since they all keep leaving him for rogues and such, but he won’t listen.” Pick shook her head slowly, tutting a little, “The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you’ve got one in the first place. I’m only surprised he didn’t go for the apostate man, Solas innit?”

Lia snorted, completely undignified and absolutely loving the whole exchange, “I think that’s his name, yes.” Cullen was flushed bright red again and he muttered something about having to go do the checks on the men’s sleeping quarters to make sure all was in order before he stalked off without even a goodbye. Pick and Lia laughed as he left, though Lia _almost_ felt bad about embarrassing him so much.

Almost.

“Is he really always like that?”

“ _Fuck_ no. He’s worse half the time. I swear it’s like reading one of those gross romance serials. There was one out in Kirkwall for a bit - sappiest, most saccharine thing you ever did read and _Maker_ the ladies up in Hightown fucking et it up.” Pick made a disgusted face, “He’s all cow-eyes and gazing off in her direction half the time and you cain’t hardly get in nothing to his head.” Pick rolled her eyes, “I just hope she lets him down easy. Poor man cain’t take another heartbreak from a pretty face.” She shook her head, tutting more genuinely and less mockingly.

“I don’t think that will be an issue,” Lia muttered, snorting another laugh at the memory of Cullen’s fumbling and faltering, “Let’s just say she’s got a _type_.” Lia shook her head fondly. The late night discussions they’d had about their respective crushes on unobtainable video game characters were still fresh in her mind. Plus their entire hour long discussion just that day about how unbelievably attractive these people seemed to be in real life. It really was just absurd how attractive they all were.

Pick was giving Lia a rather incredulous look, “Are you serious? I’d have thought she’d be all about that Solas character. Not that the Commander’s much better around him - the apostate bit irks him some, but he’s clearly gotten over that before.” She rolled her eyes, “That Mary person or whatever her name was from Kirkwall really did him over good and _she_ was an apostate.”

Lia quirked her brow and cocked her head to the side. She hadn’t remembered any subplots about Cullen liking a mage in Kirkwall from the game - but maybe it was something that hadn’t been plot important? There was clearly a lot that happened in this universe that hadn’t been explored in the video games. Also - what on _earth_ did Pick mean about him liking Solas? There was no _way_. For one Solas was an _apostate_. Though, she’d mentioned that Cullen had gotten over that before. But they barely spoke in-game. That would be… Lia brushed the train of thought away as Pick continued.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing with the fellows at the tavern now. We’ve got a betting pool. Though - if what you’re saying is true, I think I might put some money in on it actually happening with the Lady Blade.” Pick looked off into the distance as they continued speaking, the two not really needing to face one another as they spoke. 

“Well, maybe the Commander will have some luck head his way. It sounds like the man’s had it pretty rough over the years.” Lia commented as blandly as she could, knowing the majority of his story already but really not needing it to get out how knowledgeable she was. Especially since there were some clear deviations from the information she had about things.

“You can say that again, my Lady.”

“Yeah, that’s _definitely_ going to get old really fucking fast.” Lia sighed, “Just call me Sahrena, yeah? And I’ll let you know that Ashael will want to just be Ashael. She’d tell you herself but she ran herself down looking after me and is asleep right now.”

“Well thank _fuck_ for that, at least. Serrah Tethras and I had a deal where if she didn’t take a rest by tonight we were going to tie her down to a bed and _make_ her sleep.” Pick huffed, the breath whistling through the slight gap in her front teeth. “Whichever of us caught her wandering around first was gonna take care of it. She was lookin’ real rough before you woke up, Sahrena.” Pick scrunched her face up and wriggled her mouth and nose like a disgruntled rabbit before shucking off one of her gloves and scrubbing at her nose, “Ah, _fuck_ I hate the cold tho. Got all used to the warm weather in Kirkwall and can’t handle the chill anymore.”

“Well I’ll let you get back to warming up,” Lia said, taking that as her exit as she realized she too was starting to feel a bit frozen. She’d wanted to see how far she could get before the sun set too low, “I’m going to keep walking for a little ways and see what’s here. I’ll see you around and we’ll catch up again later, okay?” She waved at Pick who waved back with a big grin.

“You betcha, Sahrena. It was nice meeting you!”

“Nice to meet you too!” And then Pick was off doing whatever it was she had been on her way to do before she’d stopped to make fun of Cullen with Lia.

Lia wasn’t quite sure what season it was - or really what time it was, actually. Just that the sun was in the opposite side of the sky to where it had been when she’d woken up earlier and that it didn’t look like it was going to be properly dark for a while yet. Considering the snow on the ground, she had a very strong suspicion it was winter time - at least for southern Thedas - but she wasn’t sure how far into winter it was. At the very least it meant she still had plenty of time to explore for a bit before it started to get dark and even chillier and she’d have to make her way back into the town properly.

The path continued towards some trees before branching out. She was pretty sure she remembered there being something worthwhile from the games back this way, so she veered left through the copse. There were some plants peeking out of the inches of snow and the path was starting to look more obscured - not many people had come this direction, it seemed. It made sense - what point was there to coming back this far when everything was pretty much right in the center of the little village and the entire world was going to end anyway? 

The plants looked weirdly familiar. They had huge green leaves, nearly the size of her palm, shaped like little ivy leaves. The same instinct that had her speaking Elvhen to Em, that reminded her of the pantheon of Dalish gods and their corresponding vallaslin, that helped her reach her magic - that instinct told her it was a useful plant and even provided her with a name: _Feladara_.

She knelt down in the snow without a second thought, the cool crystals melting into the fabric of both sets of skirts and the leggings she wore, getting her knees damp. She shrugged off the discomfort and dug around the plant with her fingers, grasped at the base of the stem and pulled gently. The entire taproot came out and she quickly snapped a piece off and placed it back in the hole, covering it with the dirt that had surrounded the plant. Working on instinct she carefully separated most of the leaves from the stem and the root from the base, placing both components into one of the pouches of the belt at her waist. The stem she placed in a separate, slightly larger pocket with the intention of propagating it later so she could have a small plant in the cabin. 

She hummed a little as she worked, the movements coming naturally to her, thinking of the different ways the plant could be used. Leaves for teas that could be used to cure headaches and sore throats, the juice of the root for accelerated healing and pain relief, a small slice of the root chewed and swallowed for relief of indigestion and hoarseness. It could be worked into potions to increase their efficacy. The stems, when dried, could be peeled into thin strands that made good rope to be used to tie down the canvas covering the Aravels, harness the halla, hang clothing on to dry after washing, all sorts of things.

Lia didn’t even realize how far down the train of thought she’d gone before she’d uprooted four more plants with the same process, their parts tucked into the pouches on her belt. She startled when she realized what she’d been doing, standing up suddenly and wiping her hands vigorously on the twill fabric of her overdress. She glanced around, thankful she was entirely alone and shook her head at herself. What on earth…?

Well… Not _earth_. She huffed a breath and continued down the path she’d been on, deciding to put it out of her mind for the moment. It wasn’t the first time she’d run off of whatever weird Thedas-based instinct she’d acquired and probably wouldn’t be the last time. She’d have to talk to Em to see if she’d also had any moments like that since they’d woken up here. 

Not much farther down the path she spotted a small wooden structure - much like the cabins in Haven proper. She picked up her pace, wondering who was stationed this far from the village. She knocked on the door tentatively and it swung open without preamble. The air inside was almost colder than the air outside and she shivered. The fireplace stood empty and cold - ashes long since burnt all the way down. There were no signs of life, but she called out anyway.

“Hello? Anyone home?” She stepped inside, the floor creaking quietly under her feet. It wasn’t an old building, rather, it was very much like the cabin she’d woken up in. Just quiet, unused. She used the fading light from outside as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the indoors. No one was here and no one had been here for a while. She searched around, feeling slightly uncomfortable at being in someone’s house without their permission - definitely uncomfortable with touching their things, but it couldn’t... _hurt_ to look at what was there. It wasn’t like she was snooping if it was already visible. And it wasn’t like the door had been _locked_. Anyone could have come in, after all.

There was a scrabbling in the wall, and she jumped with a gasp, the sound loud in the silence of the little hut. Seeing nothing, she realized it was probably just a squirrel or mouse or something. She laughed a little at herself and continued to look through the two rooms. There were two cots off in the corner, but there was a layer of dust on them - it had definitely been some time since anyone had been in this place. 

She turned around and saw a desk covered in papers. A brazier on the wall stood cold and dark and she unthinkingly flicked her fingers towards it, a warmth flooding her chest and spreading down her arm into her fingertips where it left with a little flicker of fire. The cold fuel in the brazier caught and came to life, lighting the inside of the cabin suddenly and she blinked away the spots as her eyes readjusted.

She looked down at the notes and realized they were herbalist’s notes - information on brewing potions and a recipe specifically for refining and perfecting a lyrium potion for mages. _Well...that’s incredibly useful,_ Lia thought to herself, collecting the notes and folding them carefully before sticking them into the pocket of her overdress.

Nothing else visible in the cabin seemed as interesting as the notes. There was a chance of finding something inside of one of the cabinets or trunks, but Lia was decidedly _not_ doing that. So she shrugged as she turned around to leave the building, dousing the flame with a lazy wave of her hand and closing the door firmly behind her. If whoever lived in this building came back they’d almost certainly come through Haven at some point and she could return the notes to them if they did. It would be worth seeing if the apothecary could do anything with the potion recipe she’d found.

The sun was actively beginning to set now, so she hurried back towards the gates of Haven as quickly as she could. She passed by the soldier’s tents and waved as she saw Pick - who was actively berating another soldier who had apparently done something not-so-good, but waved back at Lia with a friendly smile. Lia couldn’t help the sympathetic wince for the soldier Pick was laying into, but she carried on towards the gates and through them, climbing up the steps and heading towards the tavern area. She figured she would see if she could get another pot of tea before turning in for the night. Maybe she’d run into Varric and they could continue talking.

* * *

Lia made her way up the stairs and ran right into Varric, having not been paying attention to where she was going.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders as she backed up a little from their collision. His own hands had come up and were now resting gently under her elbows.

“It’s alright, Sahrena. Happens all the time,” He laughed, as Lia flushed in embarrassment, “Can I help you with anything?”

“I- no. I mean, thank you, but I was actually just kind of wandering around, getting my bearings.” She pulled away, just enough that they both dropped their arms to their sides, no sudden movements on either part, “I was thinking I might head up to the tavern again for more tea. Maybe something to eat.” Lia was starting to feel a little peckish and wondered if it would be more sandwiches or if there’d be something else on the menu this late in the day.

“Do you mind if I join you? I was actually heading your way to see if you and Ashael would be interested in eating again.” Varric smiled easily and Lia felt herself flush again, the first one having not faded entirely before the second warmed her face back up. She was so very glad she could blame the pink in her cheeks on the chill in the air and her walking around.

“That sounds lovely, Varric. I’d really enjoy having company. I didn’t really want to wake Ashael if I could help it, but I do need to step in and drop some things off before we go eat. I can check to see if she wants to join us.” She returned the smile and he cleared his throat before he spoke.

“After you, then, _my lady_.” He winked and she rolled her eyes, grinning, before leading the way back to the cabin she was sharing with Ashael. 

Lia opened the door as quietly as she was able, stepping inside nearly silently and gently closing the door behind her. She unloaded the pouches on her belt, unpacking the feladara she had collected. That done, she took one of the stems that she’d left a couple of leaves on and found a bone drinking cup. She filled the cup with water from a pitcher on the side table and placed the stem in the glass by the window so it would get sunlight. The leaves she laid out on the window sill right next to the glass to dry, along with the remaining stems. She quickly rummaged around and found a large jar with a cork top that she placed the roots into. 

With all the components cared for, Lia stepped back and placed her hands on her hips, looking at the finished job with a little bit of pride. She knew how to do all of this from her real life - a couple witchcraft blogs and some general gardening skills had helped her learn, but it was a set of skills she’d picked up on her own, not some weird fantasy-world-specific knowledge that she was somehow able to tap into now that she was here and not home. That made her feel better about having followed through with the compulsion to harvest all of the feladara she had.

Lia turned finally and regarded her friend, who was still crashed out on the cot. Before Lia had left on her impromptu jaunt around Haven, Em had been on her side and tucked up in a classic sleeping position. Now, however, she was twisted around. Her head faced the window where Lia had been working and her shoulders lay flat against the cot. Em’s hips faced the opposite direction from her head, with one leg flopped over the edge of the cot and dangling down. Her arms were akimbo above her head, one draped over her eyes, and she was snoring lightly. It was, frankly, ridiculous and Lia’s spine hurt just looking at it.

_It’s no wonder her back always hurts if that’s how she sleeps…_ Lia mused to herself, shaking her head before bringing the blanket back up over her friend where it had slipped. Deciding it was probably best that Em sleep as long as she could, Lia left her there and headed back out to Varric.

“All done?” Varric asked, scuffing his boot in the snow on the stones leading away from the cabin. Lia nodded.

“Yep. Ashael is still very asleep and I figure she’s earned it after what we’ve been through recently.” 

Varric raised his eyebrows and nodded, “Agreed.”

“I understand you and a particular soldier were going to make her take a rest if she didn’t do it on her own?” Lia teased.

“I take it you talked to Meg, then.” Varric laughed, “Yeah. Meg’s got a little soft spot for Ashael. No wonder, I think Kitten’s won the heart of the whole damn village at this point.” Varric shook his head a little in disbelief.

“Why do you call her that?” Lia asked, genuinely curious at the nickname. She’d heard Varric use it on their way to the Breach too, so it wasn’t something Em had picked up during the past three days.

Varric looked a little chagrined as he gave another, less joyful laugh, “I have a habit of giving nicknames to people. It seemed like it would fit her. She wants to be ferocious and pointy but she’s really just a ball of fuzz. Like a kitten.” He shrugged with a small grimace, “I try not to get too attached to people and the nicknames help.”

Lia’s heart ached at the admission. “Well, if it helps, she’s currently laying like a cat in the sunshine,” She tried to lighten the mood, “I swear if her back twists any further, she’ll be paralyzed. I’m not sure how she sleeps like that…” She trailed off. Varric let out a genuine bark of laughter at that.

“Shit, you’re kidding.” 

“I wish I was. It’s no wonder she’s always complaining about her back hurting. People shouldn’t be able to bend that way.” Lia blinked into the middle distance as she remembered the distressing twist in Em’s spine as she slept. Her choice to appear as though the position gave her more concern than it truly did was a good one, as it made Varric laugh and she grinned, joining in on the laughter as they entered the tavern.

They headed to the bar to jostle for a place and get Flissa’s attention for drinks. Varric was easily able to flag down the beleaguered barmaid who turned tired eyes framed by unkempt hair to them gratefully. The soldiers jostled one another as they all pressed in, either still vying for attention or trying to get back away from the bar to eat and drink in peace.

“What can I get for you, Varric?” Flissa asked, cocking her hip to one side and resting her hand on it, while leaning against the bar as she took their order. Varric ordered an ale and gestured to Lia for her to order.

“I don’t want to be a bother, but do you have any hot tea? I had some earlier - uh, my friend ordered it for me?” She asked, unused to having to be in the press of people - specifically people clad in armor, but also bargoers in general - and trying to order something that was more complicated than a glass of water. 

“Oh, you’re- you’re _her_. Oh, of course, my lady. I’ll get that going right away.” Flissa practically fell over herself as she got the set up for the tea ready and Lia suppressed a wince at the fawning tone the woman took. Varric smiled at her sympathetically and clapped her gently on the shoulder.

“We’ll be at my usual spot, Flissa. Just send the drinks over whenever you’ve got a chance.” He waved and led Lia away from the crush of people and back to the table they’d sat at with Em earlier. Lia tried hard not to think about his hand resting on her lower back, but it was difficult as there had been very few people who had ever put their hand there - and certainly fewer of them had been in any way attractive to her. The butterflies in her stomach made themselves known again - though they were probably closer in size to luna moths at this point. She was _very_ glad she didn’t drink alcohol as the sensation would likely have made her nauseous.

She settled herself down and tried to focus over the raucous noise of the soldiers in the tavern - there were more here now than there had been earlier and apparently some of them had been in the building for some time now, if the drinking songs that were starting up haphazardly around the room was any indication.

“It’s a bit noisy in here. Are you alright?” Varric shouted to be heard over the other shouting.

“I’m fine, but thanks.” She tried to project her voice rather than shout, in order to save her voice for later, “Is it always like this?” She wasn’t really fine, the crush of the crowd and the noise level conspiring to make her feel like she was trapped in the building with no way out, but sitting down, her back to the wall and the fact that most of the tavern occupants seemed happy enough to give them a little room around their table helped.

Varric shook his head, “Nah. I think this is the first full day off everyone’s gotten in a while. I’m sure it’ll calm down in a few days.” Lia nodded and glanced down at the table before scanning the room again, almost like she couldn’t help herself. There were just so many people in the building. She’d never seen a place so packed. Admittedly, that was probably because in her world there were fire codes keeping things like this from happening.

The noise level probably wouldn’t allow for much talking, however, she realized as she glanced back at Varric who was also people-watching, scratching the nail of one of his thick fingers against the grain of the wood absently as he observed the rambunctious crowd. Her own gaze slid over the absurdly large crowd of people in the tavern - there really honestly was no explanation for how they all fit in the cramped space. It wasn’t a large building as it was and with the tables and chairs there wasn’t exactly a lot of walking space. Most people were still in their armor and there would be a terrible shriek on occasion as someone walked too close to someone else with their chest plates touching. Every time it happened a cheer would go up as the room cringed, and everyone would take a drink before the chatter started up again. 

Finally an elven woman made her way to their table - she was close to Lia’s height and also to her build, which was interesting. Lia hadn’t seen another elf built like her yet, but the knowledge that it was possible was nice. Her short, dark hair was slicked back off her forehead and she gave a sweet smile to Varric and Lia before her eyes caught sight of something on Lia’s face - her vallaslin, probably, Lia realized as the tray the woman was carrying clattered on the table suddenly.

“Whoops! Someone bumped ya, didn’t they?” Varric covered for the woman who had backed up from the table at the noise and started wringing her hands.

“No, I mean yes, I mean no - that is-”

Lia sighed as she realized what was happening. This was already no fun and it hadn’t even been a day. 

“It’s fine, nothing spilled and everyone’s good, right?” Varric was still trying to give the woman an out.

“Right, yes. I mean, of course. I mean, anything you need just let me know and I’ll-”

“We’ll let you know. Thank you, Nissa.” Varric said with a bright smile that somehow was warm and friendly and also clearly said “You can go away now” without saying those words. Lia blinked as the woman nodded her head and stumbled her way back to the bar. How had he managed to-

“Trick I learned traveling with some friends - they always seemed to attract a lot of attention and we always needed to make sure people left us the hell alone.” Varric shouted over the din of the tavern, unloading the tray of their drinks. Lia carefully took the steaming pot of tea and poured the warm drink into the empty mug that had been brought with it. Varric took a deep swig of his ale and sighed.

“Is that the Champion?” Lia asked, trying to make sure she was heard over the sound of the Tavern. She saw Varric say “What?” more than she heard him and he shook his head, smiling, before he rifled around in his pockets.

He pulled out a small journal and a pencil, scribbling something on a blank page before passing her the book.

_I thought I wouldn’t need this as much without_ ~~_Ashal_ _Ashel_ _Ash_~~ _Your friend here. Turns out it’s good for when it’s noisy and not just for when the other person doesn’t understand Trade._

Lia smiled - so that’s how he’d been helping Em learn the language. That was really handy. And explained the comment he’d made when they were traveling to the Breach about passing notes. She wrote back.

_That’s really smart! I appreciate you thinking of that_.

She passed the book to Varric again who responded.

_So what was it you said after I mentioned my trick about getting rid of serving girls the nicest way possible?_

Lia snorted a laugh at the description of his technique.

_I was asking if the friend you had learned to do that with was the Champion of Kirkwall_.

Varric’s eyes tightened a little at the corners as he read what she wrote and not in a way that indicated a smile, though he tried to play it off like he was amused.

_Good guess. I take it you’re a fan of my work?_

Lia wasn’t sure how she could tell but she just _knew_ he wasn’t excited about that.

_You hear things even as far north as my clan roams._ She decided on before continuing, _I haven’t read any of your books, but they’ve been recommended. Any you would prefer I start with?_

Varric laughed, and looked more relaxed at that, which Lia took as a win.

_Yeah, literally anything but the Tale of the Champion. I’d even recommend my romance serial over that mess._

Lia laughed, knowing how little he thought of said romance serial.

_What? I have it on good authority that your romance work is quite good. Well, I say “good” but I mean terrible in the best way possible_.

Varric laughed for a solid thirty seconds when he read that and Lia felt a little proud of herself for having successfully navigated away from a topic that had actively made him upset. 

_You’ve got me there. I suppose if you’re going in knowing what you’re getting into it could be considered alright. I don’t know as compared to_ _what_ _exactly, but there’s gotta be something worse than what I wrote._

_And to answer your question better, I think you should start with my best seller - Hard in Hightown_.

Lia snickered. She’d certainly read a lot of really terrible romance writing in her time - fanfiction was fickle like that and sometimes you had to make due with what you could get in rare-pair hell. At least Varric could conceivably write. He had a big enough following in Thedas that enjoyed his books, anyway. 

_I’ll have to give it a shot_. She wrote back, sending the book across the table again. Varric smiled, a genuine, kind of fond smile and scribbled something quickly underneath her response.

_I don’t have any copies with me right now. Let me talk to my publisher. I’m pretty sure the Herald of Andraste can get herself a signed copy if she asks nicely._

Lia laughed, tossing her head back and feeling the bun that had somehow managed to last all day tumble down the back of her chair in a loose fall. She’d worry about it later, she decided, shaking her head a little as the tension from the bun released across her scalp, and contemplated her reply. She decided she’d play around a little for fun. No harm in being silly, right? She tried to convince the luna moths that had somehow turned into a flock of sparrows in her tummy that this was just for fun and was in no way indicative of any feelings she had for the very handsome dwarf.

She scribbled her reply and tossed the book back with a fluttering of eyelashes and she mouthed the words before Varric read them.

“Pretty please?”

Varric was taking a drink as she did this and spluttered a little into his mug, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was a little red and he laughed but it felt a little strained in an embarrassed sort of way. Lia laughed, breaking the act, realizing she’d caught him off guard. 

As he collected himself to reply, Lia addressed the mass of hair hanging down her back, enough to remind herself it was still fairly tightly braided, before twisting it back up again. The knot was a little less sturdy this time, but she also wasn’t trying to make it stay. She just wanted to make sure it was up. She might end up taking Em up on her offer of addressing hair fastenings, after all.

Varric finally composed himself and responded, sending the book back and shaking his head with a grin on his face.

_Alright, you’ve twisted my arm. I guess I’ll sign a copy for you._

She laughed, trying not to dislodge her bun again and scribbled her reply.

_That’s so kind of you! I guess I’ll have to actually read it then._

She finished the note with a quick drawing of a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. Varric saw it, laughed some more and shook his head, saying out loud, “You and Ashael both do the smiles. That’s damn cute, is what it is.”

Lia gave a startled giggle, “She did it too?” She asked, still trying to be heard over the noise of the bar. Someone had started up a song that apparently some of the patrons loved and others hated. Half the bar was singing it and the other half was singing a warring song, and both were trying to drown the other out. It was starting to give Lia a headache as she sipped her tea, realizing the pot was almost empty already. Had they really been talking for that long?

She supposed it must be a little longer than she’d assumed initially, as they were writing their sentences as opposed to speaking them, which did take a moment each time. She hadn’t even noticed time passing, she’d been having so much fun. It had almost taken her mind completely off the absolutely stupid amount of people in this tiny building - the number of which had somehow grown while they’d been distracted by their conversation.

“Yeah, it was surprising. I’ve never seen it done before, but now I kind of want it on every single note I get.” Varric responded, foregoing the writing again. Lia shook her head with a fond smile, taking the last drink of her tea.

“It’s very loud in here - I think I’m going to head outside.” She gestured to the door and her empty drink in explanation. 

Varric nodded, “I’ll join you - it’s definitely not quiet in here.” He pushed away from the table and they slipped out of the door into the cool night air. The tavern had become almost oppressively warm while they’d been inside and Lia had left her shawl draped loosely around her elbows as they’d sat, not wanting to let it go but definitely not needing it inside. Now, however, she was incredibly glad she had remembered it, tugging it firmly around her shoulders to block out the frigid air. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud and the sound from inside was almost instantly muted. Lia’s ears felt like they were filled with cotton and she desperately tried to pop them like she had dived too deep into water or had gone too high on a mountain too quickly. Doing so caused her to yawn unexpectedly. 

“Have I kept you out too late?” Varric teased as she tried to catch herself and stop the yawn before it was done. This just caused it to start back over in order to be properly satisfied.

“No, I'm just trying to pop my ears. I feel like I can’t hear anything anymore.” She said, aiming for normal volume and hoping she hit it. She could barely hear _herself_ at the moment.

“Yeah, I haven’t been in a tavern that rowdy since back at the Hanged Man. Best bar in Kirkwall - worst beer in Thedas.” He said, gesturing with his hands as if he were reading off a billboard. She snickered.

“I can only imagine.”

“Don’t. It’s really that bad.” Varric responded, “But it does its job. If you want to be drunk, that is the place to go. If you want to be around drunk people, you need to rethink your life choices probably, but also you go to the Hanged Man. If you want to have a good time with your friends and be able to hear them properly you go literally anywhere else.” Varric said, bumping his arm into Lia’s as he joked around.

Lia shook her head, giggling a little, “Well I’ll keep that in mind if I ever find myself in Kirkwall. I’ll admit, I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of going that way.”

“I can’t _imagine_ why.” Varric said, sarcastically. “It’s only the worst place in the world for any mage to be, Dalish elves avoid it for that reason - we had one clan stranded there for ten years and they all nearly died. They also avoid it because it’s not a great place for elves to go. The alienage isn’t the worst I’ve heard of but it’s not good. But it’s home, and you really can’t replace home.” He sighed, almost wistfully. Lia found her gaze drifting to him as he stared off into the direction of the Breach. The green glow reflected across the snow and lit everything eerily, but it wasn’t growing, wasn’t pulsing and horrible. Lia drew her gaze up to it as well.

Now that it wasn’t threatening to destroy the world imminently, it was almost pretty. In a horrible, natural disaster sort of way. The same kind of way lava is pretty. Or a hurricane. It was going to ruin everything if nothing was done, but there wasn’t a whole lot that could be done at the moment, so might as well appreciate what it is. 

A phantom pain shot through her hand as she stared at it and she flexed her fingers before gripping her shawl tighter around her. They’d have to close the Breach somehow. Hopefully they’d get at least one of the sides of the war to back them, though she had high hopes that she and Em could pull off bringing them both into the Inquisition. That would be the most preferable. Possibly a pipe dream, and she wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to pull it off, but she wanted to believe they could.

She had to believe they could, or everything would just seem a little hopeless. If they could pull the rug out from under Corypheus before he could even start to be an issue, they could preempt the whole course of events and avoid all the worst things. They could save so many lives.

“You okay there, Sahrena?” Varric’s voice was soft - or maybe it was just the cotton in her ears that made him sound softer than he was. She swallowed and looked away from the Breach.

“Just...thinking.” She said, evasively, shaking her head a little. It wouldn’t do to get maudlin about the entire thing so early on. They had time, they could make this work.

“It’s not something I envy you about, I’ll admit.” Varric said, gesturing vaguely towards the Breach but neither of them returned to looking at it.

“I doubt anyone would.” Lia said, sardonically, before sighing, “It’s just… I don’t wanna fuck it up. And there’s so much I could fuck up about it.”

Varric nodded, “Look, it’s...I can’t lie and tell you it’s going to be easy, or even possible. I don’t know how this is going to turn out. I’ve written a lot of tragedies and I know how stories like this end. If it was a possibility, I’d say get out and get out now. Run as fast as you can away from here and hide. This isn’t going to be pretty.” He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face before running it over his hair like he was pushing it off his forehead, despite the fact that the tight tail kept it all smoothed back away from his face. “You’ll disappoint people either way. But whatever you do, just… No one chooses to be a hero. And I’m not saying you are or you aren’t one. But you’re the best chance this world’s got of going back to normal and I’d be happy to stand by your side to try and fix it. However it ends.” He shrugged, and looked away from both Lia and the Breach, exhaling deeply. Lia had a funny feeling he hadn’t meant to say that much.

“I appreciate that, Varric.” She said, then tried to lighten the mood, “Not the most motivating speech I’ve ever heard, but I’d rather that than someone trying to blow smoke up my ass.” Lia tipped her head back to see if she could see the stars, a smile on her face despite the serious tone the conversation had taken, “We’ll figure out something, I’m sure. However it goes, I’m just glad I’ve got people around me who give a shit about me as a person and not me as the weird deified figure I definitely am not.” She shrugged, still staring up into the night sky. The Breach didn’t give off so much light after all - or maybe it was the kind of light. She could see more stars out here than she could back home. It was pretty, even if she couldn’t pick out any constellations as familiar.

Varric had gone quiet and she finally tipped her head back down to look at the dwarven man. He was staring at her, his face unreadable - which may have been due to the light more than his actual expression being difficult to figure out. The Breach conspired with the snow to throw things into awkward shadows that were too dark - like moon-shadows but cast weirdly green and slightly shifting. 

She shrugged again, for lack of anything else to do, looking away and biting her lower lip a little, “I probably should get back to Ashael. Might even try to sleep. Thanks for hanging out with me, Varric.” Lia glanced back at him with a small smile, which he returned.

“I’ll walk you back. I’ve gotta head up to the Chantry anyway. It’s on the way.” He shrugged, gesturing forward, and they walked side by side in silence back to the cabin, which was decidedly not on the way back to the Chantry if he wanted to get there quickly, but Lia wasn’t complaining. It had been really nice to spend time with someone like this, and she hoped she’d get other chances to hang out with Varric in the future that weren’t related to Inquisition business or anything to do with her being the, ugh, _Herald of Andraste_.

They said their goodnights outside the door and he walked off before she let herself in. The fire had been tended to while she was gone and was glowing brightly, having kept the room as warm as it had been earlier. She toed off her boots at the end of the bed before carefully navigating around Em’s cot to lay her shawl across the back of the desk chair on the other side of the room. She undressed back down to the shift and leggings, checking on the feladara she had collected and wiping off her face with the water in the pitcher before undoing her hair and redoing it into a proper braid. Finally, she tucked herself back into the bed, laying back with her arms behind her head as she processed the day. She’d managed to wear herself out with her hike around Haven - not to mention going to the overcrowded tavern. She was both physically exhausted and completely peopled-out.

She wouldn’t remember her last coherent thought before she finally dropped off into sleep who-knew-how-much-longer later. All she knew was one moment she was fully conscious with her eyes closed and her thoughts racing and the next she was asleep, those same racing thoughts leading her swiftly through the calmest parts of the Fade as she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, direct from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true):  
> Feladara - Elfroot  
> __
> 
> For the scene in the tavern where the warring songs go up, just imagine it's Sweet Caroline and Livin On A Prayer both sung at the same time, at the other half of the tavern singing the other one, at the top of everyone's lungs. That's about where I was at mentally at the time of writing that scene, too.
> 
> Uh...so yes there *will* be romances happening in this fic. Many of them. So many. Cuddle puddles galore. But not yet.
> 
> (fret not, though, because there will still be very soft scenes and lots of build up. And it will all be worth it I promise)


	4. When Else Are You Supposed To Do These Quests?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em takes a break from playing nursemaid now that her best friend is alright, and does some exploring of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *to the tune of Despacito* Ex-po-sition
> 
> That's it, that's the only part of the song I know.
> 
> Text within the ‹‹ and ›› brackets is Elvhen, translations at the end of the chapter

Em groaned, twisting herself further around to stretch out her muscles. Her lower spine crackled as she stretched - sounding like a zipper - and she sighed happily as it settled properly into place. Birds were tweeting, the sun was shining brightly through the window, and she felt the most well rested she’d felt in  _ ages _ . She rolled her shoulders back, forcing her shoulder blades together to make her upper back pop the same way her lower back did and grunted as her vertebrae realigned themselves satisfactorily.

“‹‹Oh  _ fuck _ yeah, that’s good shit.››” She murmured as she sat up and continued to stretch, her arm crossing in front of her chest and her other arm wrapping around it to pull it further so it would actually stretch the muscles in her shoulder. She swapped arms and opened her eyes, blinking in the light of day, then she flopped her arm up over her head and pulled on her elbow to stretch her tricep. As she stretched, she blinked, taking in the room and the bed across the way. It took her a few seconds too long to remember where she was and who was sleeping in the bed.

She felt well rested which was something she hadn’t felt in  _ days _ . Her time and energy had been poured into making sure her best friend didn’t die and she hadn’t really relaxed, even when she was dragged away from Lia’s side by Varric or Meg, distracted with learning a new language or finding out about where she was.

Lia had passed out immediately after closing the biggest rift, the one immediately under the Breach, in an attempt to close the great big hole in the sky. After three days of constant care, Lia had woken up. Although, at the moment, she was asleep - her tight braid having loosened from her tossing and turning. As Em watched, Lia started to snuggle into the pillow she had her arms wrapped around, effectively hiding her face from the daylight starting to filter in through the windows of the cabin.

Em let out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding and scrubbed the sleep gunk from the corners of her eyes. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she continued her observations of the room. Everything was pretty much as it had been before she’d gone to sleep the previous afternoon. Well, except for the plant sticking out of a cup on the window sill surrounded by a bunch of leaves and stems and the weird jar of a strange collection of taproots on the table. Where the  _ fuck _ had those come from?

She stood up carefully, padding over to the window sill to investigate, her socked feet silent on the wooden boards of the floor. She recognized them from the apothecary - but she’d recognized them  _ in _ the apothecary, too: Feladara, or what Adan called Elfroot.

Someone had been out hunting for first aid supplies, apparently. She sniffed a little and shrugged, turning back around and glancing at Lia. If she knew anything about her friend, she knew that Lia wouldn’t be conscious for some time. It was still morning after all. She wasn’t quite sure how  _ early _ in the morning it was, but it was pre-noon and Lia was definitely not awake in the mornings if she could help it. Em smiled a little and collected her boots, tugging them on and relacing them around the leggings she hadn’t taken off before sleeping. 

She was still fully dressed and she snagged her cowl from its place as her makeshift pillow and threw it over her head, rearranging the hood so her hair tucked into it. She tugged the leather tie out so it was no longer holding her hair. It had held through the night, which was impressive, but it was probably also a mess regardless as she never escaped sleep without incredible bedhead. She forewent redoing the hairstyle, shaking the remnants of the french braid out of her scalp and letting the mass of hair fall down to her mid-back. She left her blanket on her cot, deciding she could come back for it if the outside proved cold enough for her to need it.

Em stepped outside, her clothes doing more than enough to keep her warm as the sun rose over the peaks of the mountains. Based on the current level of the sun it was still relatively early. There were several people milling about already, their days having started well before Em’s, but it was not so late in the morning that there weren’t other people meandering the village looking very much like they’d also just woken up. 

She scrubbed her nose with the side of her hand and rolled her shoulders again, trying to decide where she’d head first. There really wasn’t anything she needed to be doing specifically. She could head to the Chantry, see if Roderick was still doing alright after yesterday. She was a little worried that he might slip back into his “I hate the Inquisition and the Chantry won’t support it!” default state, now that he’d been confronted with the reality of the situation. His immediate reaction to imprison Lia when she had arrived in the tiny back room was enough warning for Em that he might end up changing his tune again.

But she’d spent most of her time in Haven in the Chantry so far. It was beautiful, no doubt. The stone walls of the building somehow managed to echo sound as well as muffle it and Em wasn’t quite sure how that worked, not being an architect or sound-designer. After the Hero of Ferelden had come through and taken care of the itty bitty cultist problem that had infested the area, the village had fallen into disrepair while it stood empty. According to Chancellor Roderick, the village had been reconstructed and it had taken some time for people to make their way up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes after the end of the Fifth Blight. 

Admittedly she’d inferred a lot of the information based on what she knew of the games, and less on what she could understand from the clergyman, but it was knowledge nonetheless. But after a childhood spent in the tiny Anglican-adjacent church she’d grown up around, spending more time in the dark sanctuary didn’t hold any kind of interest for Em. 

Em also wanted to give Varric a break from being around her as he’d spent a lot of time with her while Lia was out. Most of that time was spent helping her learn the language as best they could manage and trying to keep her mind off of things. But Em knew she was difficult to be around for long stretches and it wasn’t fair to continue bothering the poor man with her presence. Maybe instead she would go see Adan in case he needed help with anything. It was worth checking in at least, as she and the apothecary had a pretty good rapport going after three days of tending to the same patient.

Her path decided, Em set off down the walkway, nodding greetings to people as they passed if they happened to notice her. She passed Seggrit's setup, giving him a tight, but polite, smile and a nod - she didn’t particularly like the man. He always sounded angry and she remembered how he referred to elves when she’d played through the game as other races. Frankly Em didn’t want to deal with him more than she had to. 

Over the past few days she’d watched him berate elves who dealt with him and while she couldn’t understand what he said, she knew he wasn’t kind. He would quiet down if he recognized Em’s face when she approached - apparently her status put  _ some _ fear into him. She had gotten caught in the crossfire one day when he hadn’t seen the marks on her face in time.  _ That _ had been an interesting exchange between Seggrit and Adan, Em remembered with a suppressed giggle. 

Generally, however, Seggrit tended to ignore or dismiss the elves that passed his booth or traded with him. This seemed to be one of those days, as Em passed by without much more than a tight nod back at her, his eyes sliding past her as she passed. 

Em banished the train of thought about Seggrit with a tiny shake of her head, like she was trying to flick away hair from her face and jogged up the final set of stairs towards the apothecary - and practically ran straight into Solas’ chest.

“Oop! Sorry!” She apologized automatically, it not being the first time she’d run into people since coming to Thedas. Early on into her studies with Varric, she’d decided that she should learn several key phrases: a greeting, a farewell, an apology, to ask where the food was, and where to find the facilities. All good choices she’d concluded when she ended up using all of them within the next two hours after learning them.

“Ah, it’s quite alright, da’len.” Solas said, his hands having come up to either side of Em’s shoulders to steady her, though he never actually made contact.

“Oh, Solas. On dhea.” She nodded, glancing around behind him to make sure they weren’t in the way, and trying to determine if she could scootch her way around him and not be rude. She didn’t really want to talk to Solas - right now or in general.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t know his secret - or if he bothered to stop calling her the Elvhen equivalent of “child” every other sentence. She was just incredibly reluctant to speak with the man and have to deal with his not-so-subtle digs at Dalish culture, or the modern (as it were) culture, or his general condescension towards anyone who wasn’t part of the Fade or ancient Elvhen.

“On dhea, Ashael.” He nodded in return greeting, “‹‹It is good to see you out and about. I understand Sahrena is awake and doing well?››”

Em shrugged, “‹‹She’s fine, yes. She’s not awake yet today, but that’s expected.››” She hoped that would satisfy the man.

It did not, “‹‹It is good to hear. And you have been well?››”

Em nodded, “‹‹Yep, doing great. You?››” She held back the wince as her internal scripting took over for polite conversation.

“‹‹I am well, da’len. Thank you for your concern.››”

“‹‹Good, good.››” She nodded, shifting her feet and glancing around again.

“‹‹You were speaking Trade with Varric the other day. I take it he has been helping you learn the language?››”

Em screamed internally, though outwardly her face fell into a neutral but pleasant expression. She was used to screaming on the inside while talking to people, after all. She’d had plenty of practice over her twenty-nine years of life and she immediately dropped back onto that almost three-decades worth of social training in how to be a good, polite southern girl who was able to hold a conversation with just about anyone. In all of this, she relied heavily on the social anxiety she had struggled with throughout her entire life as well as the etiquette classes she’d taken as a middle schooler.

“‹‹That’s right. He’s been a great help. The past few days would have been very difficult without him.››”

“‹‹I would offer my assistance in your efforts to learn Trade, as well, da’len. It may be easier to have someone who knows both Trade and Elvhen to help with some of the more unique phrases in both languages.››”

Em pressed her lips into a thin line that stretched across her face so her cheeks dimpled, but she knew the false-smile wasn’t reaching her eyes and anyone would be able to see she didn’t mean the words coming out of her mouth as she spoke next, “‹‹That’s very nice of you, Solas. Thank you. I will think about it.››” Solas frowned minutely, a crease appearing between his eyebrows and the corners of his lips twitching downwards as he took in her expression. Em continued on, heedless of his slightly-more-dour look, eager to be out of the conversation, “‹‹I was just on my way to see if Adan needed any help today, so I’ll be going before he gets too busy and cranky about it. Talk to you later.››” She nodded, the plastic smile still on her face as she sidestepped around the taller elf and waved, “Goodbye!” If she walked a little faster than absolutely necessary to cross the remaining distance between the top of the stairs and the door to the apothecary, she didn’t acknowledge it and neither did anyone else.

She stepped inside after a perfunctory knock, “Good morning, Adan.” She said, her voice only a little breathless.

“Maker, did you run here? Is anything the matter?” Adan was his normal cheerful self, grumbling over intricate still set up that allowed him to brew potions and other things. 

“No is matter. No run, just come and see if can help.” She shrugged, glancing around at his set up. Em had gotten a very good chance to learn about the practice of alchemy and what was needed around the small practice. He was starting to run out of some of the staples for basic healing potions - they probably  _ had _ gone through a lot, she realized, considering the injured from the initial explosion and the fighting against demons that had happened after that. Someone had found a whole bunch of feladara and set it up to prepare in the cabin yesterday. She could probably find more around the area.

“Are out of Elfroot?” She asked, gesturing to several mostly-empty jars around the shelves.

“Hm? Yeah we’re getting low,” Adan scratched at the back of his shaved head, before trying to tuck his beard out of the way. It didn’t work as whatever he was working on spit and fizzled, catching in his beard and burning the hairs. He jumped back, swearing profusely as he swatted the tiny embers to put them out. Em contained a giggle.

“Can go get for you?” She offered as he finally turned around.

“What? Wait, who’s with the other one?” He looked genuinely concerned as he realized both he and Em were in the apothecary and since they’d been the main ones to sit up with Lia, he should probably wonder who was taking care of his invalid charge.

Em smiled, “Sahrena is fine. Was awake yesterday. Is asleep now, but normal sleep.” She shrugged. Adan took a moment to translate what Em said into a sentence he could actually understand without the lack of pronouns and articles, before looking a little impressed and nodding to himself.

“Well, alright then. Yeah, if you can get some more Elfroot, we could definitely use it.” He waved at the dwindling supplies, “And if you see anything else you recognize that might be helpful I won’t say no. The only other option is trying to work with that Seggrit character and his prices are  _ way _ too high.” Adan scoffed as Em barked a laugh at his assessment of the only merchant in Haven, “It’s like he doesn’t even know that people need these things to  _ heal _ .”

“Is ass.” Em nodded emphatically in agreement with Adan. 

“Thank you!” Adan said, with the exasperation of someone who was more used to people disagreeing with his harsh criticisms and was glad someone  _ finally _ agreed with him.

“Will get more elfroot, then come back. If need help, can do.” She nodded solemnly, which contrasted with the wide smile she was still sporting from their back and forth about their combined least-favorite person in the village.

“I...Yes I think I would appreciate that. We’ll see what’s needing to be done when you return.” He nodded, waving before cursing suddenly and going back to the vials and bottles in front of him that were now threatening to boil over. Em shook her head fondly before stepping back outside and heading to see where she might find more feladara. 

* * *

Em wasn’t sure how long it took her to collect the herbs from the surrounding areas - it certainly had felt like a while, but she couldn’t figure out how to tell time without a clock. One of her current least favorite things about Thedas was their lack of timepieces. So it was possibly half an hour later, or five hours, or somewhere in between when she returned to the apothecary. While she’d stopped to talk with Varric for a bit, as well as a couple other people who she was beginning to be familiar with in all her running around, she had neatly avoided running into Solas on her way back. Now that she could sort of understand people who were talking to her, it was a little easier to hold conversations with them in passing. Plus it gave her ample time and opportunity to practice. 

Em had even gotten a chance to run into Meg, who’d grinned at her even though she was busy with some training drills and couldn’t stop to talk for long. They’d exchanged some friendly words and Meg expressed how pleased she was that Em was progressing so quickly with learning Trade. There’d been a weird moment before Meg had begged off to continue her training where there’d been someone just over Em’s shoulder that had taken Meg’s attention and she’d given a slightly wicked looking grin to whomever it was. Em figured it didn’t matter much and had continued on her way after saying her goodbyes. She’d nearly run into Cullen who’d been relatively close by and they’d stumbled through some halting conversation before she’d been able to disengage and head back to Adan. 

She was humming when she opened the door, murmuring a soft greeting to Adan who was busy patching up someone who looked like they’d gotten a pretty bad burn. Em hissed in sympathy when she saw the raw flesh on their arm as she went about preparing the herbs for storage and use. 

Adan had shown her a few things while they’d been working together to make sure Lia was alright after attempting to close the Breach. She’d picked up on it pretty quickly - repetitive tasks that had clear directions being something she enjoyed as a general rule anyway. 

Distracted by her task, she missed the slightly dirty look Adan’s patient gave her, but she did catch Adan’s curt, “And you’re quite done then. I understand you’re to report to Charter when you’re done here, so go do that.” 

Em turned a little, not used to hearing Adan snarl like that at someone he was actively working on. She tried a sympathetic smile at the young man, who looked shocked at the treatment from the alchemist. 

Adan’s gruff nature had always drawn Em to him when she’d played the games. She wouldn’t necessarily call it a  _ pleasant _ surprise to find him much the same in person, but did find herself glad she could count on his grumpy personality not having changed. It was odd, however, to see him so abrupt with someone - she had seen him in action enough times over the past few days to know he at least  _ tried _ with most of the patients who came through the door. The young man glanced confusedly from Adan to Em to the door before walking off, still nursing his partially tended-to wound.

“Fucking...can’t abide by that shit.” Adan scoffed, rolling his eyes as he turned to address Em, “So, what’s the damage?” He sighed, as if expecting her to tell him she’d found nothing.

She gestured to her bounty, which was quite plentiful. Em had already begun the work of separating the individual components for further drying and preservation, though she hadn’t gotten much farther than separating the leaves from the stems and keeping the roots attached so the plant would stay alive longer. Adan’s eyes widened in astonishment and he let out a low whistle.

“Where did you find all this, then?”

“Around.” She shrugged, with a grin, “Is very easy find, when look in right places.” She hadn’t quite figured out yet how she knew exactly where to look for the pervasive plant, but she’d just kind of... _ known _ . It was weird, but it was weird in the same useful way that she somehow knew how to fight with knives and not die immediately. She wasn’t going to question it if it was helpful.

“Well, I’m not going to question the wisdom of the Dalish.” Adan muttered, shaking his head slightly, “Can’t say I’m not grateful for it. Might keep us from having to turn to Seggrit for a while.” Adan looked almost pleased at that, which was saying something as the alchemist’s face very rarely strayed from ‘irritated and slightly disappointed in your choices.’

“Is point.” Em nodded, grinning widely before she returned to her work. 

Em stored the completed components and hung the rest to dry before letting Adan know she’d finished, to which he indicated he needed no further assistance for the day. Another stretch of time had passed and she still couldn’t figure out how long it had been in minutes, but about half of one of the wall tapers had gone since she’d come in. She would figure out what that represented eventually. She hoped so, anyway. She shrugged a little as she opened the door and left with a pleasant farewell to Adan, stepping back out into the rest of the world.

It was not nearly as bright right now since the sun was covered by thick grey clouds that had moved in from absolutely nowhere. Flakes of snow were starting to fall and Em shivered a little as a brisk wind blew through the buildings. She’d have to go snag her blanket if it got any colder.

“Ah, just the woman I wanted to see.” An unfamiliar voice came from the stairs as a bald man with an impressive moustache came up the stone steps. 

“Hello?” She greeted the man with a politely friendly smile.

“The name’s Harritt. I’m a smith by trade. Doin’ my best to help get you all some new armor and weapons. I wanted to see if I could snag you, m’lady, for some measurements for new armor. I was told the borrowed things you wore to the Breach the other day were a bit oversized for you - and based on what I saw, you and the demons took offense to that.” The man laughed, his voice carrying in the echoey space. Em blinked as she tried to parse his words. He spoke quickly and with an accent she wasn’t as familiar with.

“You...need help?” She ventured, trying to figure out what it was the man wanted.

“Uh, I suppose you could put it like that.” The man laughed - what had he said his name was? Harvey? Harold? She tried to match his face with any of the faces from Haven she was familiar with in the games, but it was eluding her, “I’d wondered why you didn’t come by earlier - saw you out collecting flowers or whatever.” Em heard the door of the apothecary open, her hackles rising as she felt someone standing behind her.

“You insulting the best assistant I’ve ever had, Harritt?” Adan’s voice sounded harsher than normal, more like it had when he was addressing the soldier that was in for healing when Em had returned with her harvest of feladara. Em blinked at the words being exchanged.

“I don’t mean nothing by it, I swear. I don’t know which flowers does what. I’m a simple man who smiths simple things.” The man - Harritt? Had she misheard? Wasn’t that the name of the blacksmith? - held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He looked back at Em, “I was just wanting to know if we could get you fitted for a new set of armor, Lady Blade.” He spoke a little slower, gathering that something had been missed in translation. 

“Oh. Armor. Yes, have armor,” She nodded, still trying to piece together what it was the man wanted. Adan sighed heavily behind her.

“Fuck it, I’ll find the apostate one - whotsisname. Solas.” Em stiffened infinitesimally at the mention of Solas’ name, but stayed put, “He can help.” Adan gruffed, wandering off towards the pocket of tents that Solas’ shelter was located in. 

“Shit, you really don’t understand any Trade?” Harritt was talking again, his quick speech and heavy accent fucking with Em’s ability to understand anything the poor man was trying to tell her.

“Um, can understand some. Very fast talk, no. Accent is...uh...like stew?” She tried, not knowing the word to describe how heavy his accent was.

Harritt blinked at her, giving another good natured laugh and clapping her on the shoulder with a heavy, calloused hand. She stumbled at the gesture, the man clearly not used to tempering his strength when dealing with others, “‘Accent is like stew,’ I ain’t heard that one afore.” He chuckled and Em realized he spoke with a similar accent to Meg. She felt her brain click the wheels together and suddenly she could kind of understand him better.

“If speak...slower? Can maybe understand more.” She said, carefully, trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally insult the man or get her words wrong or both. It had happened a couple times already and while it had all been resolved it was still something she’d rather avoid.

“Right, my name’s Harritt.” He started again and Em giggled.

“Okay, got that one, yes.” She nodded, “My name is Ashael.” She greeted, holding out her hand to shake. Harritt took it with a grin from under his bushy moustache.

“Right, I’m the smith.”

“Smith, for making armor, yes.” She nodded. This was going  _ so much better _ .

“I want to make you new armor.” Harritt continued, “Yours was lost at the Conclave, the stuff you borrowed was real torn up and was far too big for you anyway. I’d like to make something that will fit you better - help you move a little easier when you fight.” Harritt’s words were getting faster and Em struggled to keep up.

“Make...new armor because old armor was...bad?” She tried, hoping she was getting the gist of the situation.

“Sure, close enough anyway.” Harritt patted her on the shoulder again, “Ah, and here’s our translator and the grumpiest healer I’ve never seen.” Harritt smiled at the two, “I think we’ve done got it, but it’ll be nice to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Adan still had a heavier stormcloud than normal hanging over his head as he glared at Harritt, and Solas looked sterner than normal too, so Em smiled at Adan to try and lighten the mood.

“Harritt says need new armor?” She said, giving a shrug.

“‹‹He did not hurt you or say anything insulting?››” Solas spoke quickly and just this side of sotto voce. Em blinked.

“No?” She said, confused as to why that would have happened, “‹‹He just was telling me the armor I used on the way to the Breach was unusable. Something about…››” She trailed off as she fought to translate in her head back and forth between the two languages, “‹‹too big? And torn up. Which, not wrong on either count.››” She shrugged again, stepping back from Solas, who had stepped up close by her so they could exchange words, “‹‹It’s fine, Solas. He’s...Just got a thicker accent than I’m used to.›› Like stew.” She smiled, glancing back at Adan who was still glaring at Harritt. Harritt thankfully looked just as confused as to why he was suddenly the focus of Adan’s ire as Em was.

“Adan?” Em addressed the apothecary, stepping further away from Solas with another shrug of her shoulders, “Is okay?” She asked, suddenly worried at how upset her almost-friend had become.

“‹‹Adan was worried about you, da’len,››” Solas explained and Em repressed a flinch at the address. It was almost as bad as being called the Maker’s Blade was. “‹‹He was concerned that there may be some...attitudes against elves, against Dalish elves in particular, that might become more prevalent in the collected population of Haven.››” Solas’ voice was patient but as Em glanced at him, his face was impassive. A mask covering all his emotions. The only traitor to his inner thoughts was a tightness in his eyes and a slight downward turn to his mouth. Em shook her head.

“Oh, ‹‹That’s all? No one’s said or done anything to me so far. Probably won’t. I can handle myself.››” She said and turned back to Adan again, “Is okay, Adan. Am well. Harritt is friend.” Em gestured to the smith with a smile, “No need for anger face.” She stepped forward and poked Adan’s cheek playfully, shoving the corner of his mouth upwards in a smile. Adan rolled his eyes but his demeanor relaxed, allowing the gesture before swatting Em’s hand. She danced out of the way of the swat, laughing.

“I just want to help fix her up with some good armor, I didn’t expect the...the…” Harritt struggled for a second trying to come up with the ending to his sentence. Em had kind of followed the thought and let out a loud barking laugh as she got the pun he was trying to avoid.

“No one eggspect inquisition.” She muttered with a giggle when three sets of eyes turned on her, ducking her head with a flush of her cheeks, “Can go now. Finished help Adan already.” She scratched behind her ear, still a little startled at the shape of it whenever her hands strayed up that way, and gestured back down the stairs to where she knew the smithy was.

“After you, milady.” Harritt said, indicating that she go first, an exit she  _ gladly _ took, wanting to get as far away from Solas as possible. 

Em and Harritt walked together in comfortable silence. He seemed to realize that it was difficult for her to understand him and instead whistled a jaunty tune as they passed by the other people of the village. Em was a little lost in her thoughts and so didn’t particularly notice much as they walked.

Adan’s concern was very touching and she was glad she’d managed to befriend the grumpy alchemist in such a short period of time. She realized now that he’d probably sent off the soldier earlier for saying or doing something that indicated he was less friendly to elves than the general populace. It also added to Adan’s vitriol directed specifically at Seggrit. Not only was the merchant a price gouging opportunist, but he was also dismissive-to-hostile towards the elves in the village. 

It was kind of Adan to try and get someone to help with translation when he saw the issues between Harritt and Em, too. She did wish that he’d thought of  _ literally _ anyone except for Solas, but she understood. Solas had been as constant a companion to Adan as Em had been at this point - the three of them worked closely together to keep Lia alive every time that she’d been injured up to this point. But of all people to have to come and... _ ugh _ ‘save’ her. 

It wasn’t that she disliked Solas - that was the problem. She knew how this story ended, she knew who and what he was,  _ and _ what he was planning to do. And she...she knew better than to put herself through that, even as just a friend. She couldn’t...couldn’t justify it to herself.

Not that the butterflies in her stomach seemed to care, or the blood that rushed to her face whenever he looked at her that way he had where it felt like she was being studied like something on a microscope slide or a planet very far away - and she  _ couldn’t _ .

She shook herself out of her thoughts as they arrived at the smithy and Harritt showed her around the space. It was one of the few places she hadn’t had a chance to explore fully yet and she was fascinated. The act of smelting and shaping metals, creating things using fire and hammers, the knowledge of anatomy and ability required, the science and art melding together, pun  _ not _ wholly intended but incredibly welcome, creating weapons and works of art, armor and costume, it was  _ fascinating _ and she loved it to pieces. She’d always admired people who could do it and she watched with glee as some of Harritt’s people finished a sword - she wasn’t sure exactly what kind of sword it was, but it was just so cool to see.

The smithy was loud, as a rule - the sound of the fire roaring, the bellows to make it burn higher, the sound of boiling metal, steaming water, the clinking of hammer into metal to shape it, the shouting of the smiths as they worked and joked. Beyond the smithy were the stables and further were the grounds where the soldiers were camped, holding drills and practice to stay in form as they worked, the metal forged in the smithy clashing against more metal. Em fought the urge to cover her ears as the sounds gradually built upon one another and she winced as someone dropped a stack of vambraces on a table right next to her. Downsides to extra big ears, she supposed.

Harritt took a quick look at her as she drew in on herself at the extra noise as someone decided to start up a song as they worked, everyone either joining in or trying to drown them out with additional noise over top. “Right, we’re going inside. I’ve got better materials in there anyway.” He spoke, but Em could barely hear herself think. Em caught Harritt’s gesture to follow and she gratefully joined him around the side of the smithy and into the adjoining living space.

The door shutting behind her was like bliss and she sighed gratefully as she looked around the small homey area. There were chests and crates scattered through the small room. A wall separated the area with Harritt’s cot from the main space. There were knickknacks and keepsakes scattered through the building, along with tools of the trade that were kept inside from the elements.

“Got some nice leather here - keep it away from the boys cause if they found this they’d use it all up.” Harritt was grumbling as he rummaged through a chest hidden under a table on the wall closest to the smith-side of the building. Em wandered into the space farther, looking over Harritt’s shoulder as he pulled out swatches of leather from different animals, bits of cloth, padding materials, furs, and metal plates that looked to be made out of finer stuff than the iron that was being used in the smith itself. Underneath the supplies, Harritt pulled out several sheafs of paper bound in twine.

“Made these up ages ago - never did get a chance to make something nice before, but I’ve been given a bit of leeway here to work on finer things for the higher-ups like you and your Lady Herald friend.” He was explaining as he undid the knot around one of the bound sets of designs. Em was handed the papers and she leafed through them, taking in the designs and the intricate details worked into each of the armor schematics. 

She spread them out onto the table and looked at the different aspects of each, weighing pros and cons of the different pieces. Occasionally she’d point to a design element and ask Harritt about it and then he would explain it. Then he would re-explain it slower so Em could understand. They cobbled together pieces from different schematics, pulling out a spare piece of paper to write their notes on, drawing up a new design together.

A flexible leather chestplate to go over her shirt and a leather coat with reinforced joints. Harritt noticed her use of the cowl and suggested the addition of a leather hood attached to the coat in order to help her stay dry in inclimate weather. She’d still be able to wear the cowl underneath, though more as an additional layer of warmth rather than her sole protection against the elements. 

The coat would be long, the hemline reaching the backs of her knees with a split down the back seam to allow for better movement. A set of simple iron greaves would cover the vulnerable points of her boots, like really intense shin pads, and a pair of leather vambraces would be able to go on and fit underneath the leather jacket. She would also have gloves meant to actually fit her. This would not only allow her hands to have protection while she used the fighting style that had come so naturally to her on the way to the Breach, but would also give them an additional layer of warmth against the cold of the mountain. 

Em and Harritt went over the pros and cons of each kind of leather - which would allow for the most movement, what would be most sturdy, and which animals had natural resistances to certain types of magic. Harritt also talked her into getting a sturdier set of leather breeches, as the ones she was wearing were more like clothing than armor. She then suggested something that was like a set of chaps she could throw on over her current leather breeches or over canvas breeches for warmer climes. Might as well think ahead just in case. Harritt had been impressed with her forethought and they’d worked together to piece the armor so he could work on it further.

“You come back by in a couple days, it should be ready for you. And if you see the Herald wandering around, send her my way, yeah?” Harritt said, already starting to work on the armor set for Em. Em grinned and agreed, before heading back outside.

The wind had picked up and the snow had begun falling in earnest now. She shivered a little and hurried back towards the gates of Haven. She was stopped by Meg briefly. 

“You alright then, Ashael?”

Em nodded, “Yep. Very cold - no coat.” She gestured to her sweater-like shirt that had visible patches of non-knit material where she’d taken injuries heading up to the Breach. 

“Well, shit, they didn’t get you a coat?” Meg placed her hands on her armored hips and looked appalled at the thought, “Best get you back inside someplace with a warm fire then. I’m heading up to the tavern for a mo’. I’ll deliver you to Master Tethras, he can see to making sure you don’t freeze.” Meg grinned and the two started up the stairs to the gate.

“Oi! Commander!” Meg shouted at Cullen - who was standing just a little ways off, but definitely not far enough to require shouting at. Em turned to see what Meg was doing, her lip caught in her teeth as she worried at it. She tucked her hands into her armpits to keep them warm as she walked.

Cullen’s gaze caught hers and he flushed and muttered something, “What?” He shouted back at Meg finally.

“Heading to the tavern to drop off the Blade, yeah? I’ll be back soon.” Meg gestured at the doors and Cullen sighed so big that it was visible even with his armor and mantle on. 

“Yes, fine. Be quick about it. I want you back here to help with drills in half an hour.” Meg saluted lazily and she led the way for the two of them back to the tavern.

Varric was tucked into his table at the back of the tavern - where he and Em had become a regular fixture - and across the table from him, her back facing the corner wall so she could see out into the rest of the space, was Lia. A pot of tea was on the table in front of her and she looked a little groggy still, but awake. A pint of ale sat in front of Varric.

“Oi! Tethras. Got you a kitten.” Meg shoved Em forward playfully - well, it was supposed to be playful, but Em hadn’t been expecting it and Meg was stronger than she realized, causing her to tumble a little into a chair before correcting herself with a peevish but not serious glare.

“Can walk!” Em huffed, pouting a little as she made her way through the tavern to where Lia and Varric were sitting.

“Next time bring the lion, too, yeah?” Varric laughed and Meg gave a rude one finger gesture as she spoke to Flissa who apparently gave Meg a negative answer to whatever question was asked. Varric waved her off like he was shooing a fly, “Hey there, Ashael. We were just settling in.” Varric waved Em over and she shuffled into the chair on Varric’s other side, across from Lia and right next to the wall, turning so she kept her back to the wall a little.

“Is awake?” Em grinned, leaning forward to wink at Lia.

Lia huffed a little, smiling as her eyes rolled ceiling-ward momentarily, “Yes, I’m awake.” She stuck her tongue out at Em after she answered, bringing her tea up to her mouth for a sip.

“Shit, Kitten. Where’s your coat?” Varric asked, like he’d just noticed Em’s decided lack of preparation for the weather. 

Lia blinked at Em as Em shrugged with a quick, “No have.”

“What? How do you not-” Lia shuffled around, shedding the shawl she had wrapped around her shoulders, “Andruil’an banalhan’ne shalasha, Em! ‹‹How have you not frozen?››”

“‹‹I don’t need one, usually. This is the coldest it’s been since we closed the rift.››” Em shrugged, as Lia passed her balled up shawl across the table. Em didn’t do anything with it, so Varric grabbed it from Lia instead, shaking it out and tossing it unceremoniously over Em’s head.

Em squawked a little in protest, fighting her way out from under it, her hair sticking out with the static produced. She scrunched her face up and returned Lia’s gesture of sticking her tongue out, now aimed at both Lia and Varric. It was noted, however, that she did wrap the body-warm fabric around her shoulders and snuggle in a little closer to where the fireplace was located centrally on the wall.

“‹‹Didn’t you have a coat? When we were going up to the Temple?››” Lia asked, still concerned, and blatantly ignoring Em’s grimace at the attention she was getting over not having a coat on.

“‹‹Wasn’t mine. Plus it’d be useless now.››” She absently played with the stitches on her elbow where the fabric of her sweater-like tunic was held together, “‹‹I usually use my blanket, but it wasn’t that bad when I left earlier - plus it would have been  _ super _ inconvenient for gathering feladara for Adan.››” Em shrugged.

“Ah,” Lia’s face pinched a little, tightness appearing around her eyes as her lips pursed slightly. A crease formed between her eyebrows, but she covered most of the expression with her teacup, “‹‹Well, you’ll need one. It’s cold outside!››”

Em brightened, “‹‹I know! Did you see the snow? It’s so pretty out here!››” She wriggled around in her chair, “‹‹I saw the feladara on the windowsill earlier - did you get a chance to go wandering around yesterday? Did you see the  _ trees _ here? They’re  _ huge _ !››” Em flailed her arms for emphasis.

Varric dodged out of the way of one of Em’s arms as it got too close to his head. She immediately contained her wayward limbs and apologized quickly.

“It’s fine, Kitten. What did you ask her about, Lia?” Varric addressed the question with a nod in Lia’s direction.

“Uh...the weather, actually.” Lia snorted a little, taking another sip of her tea before refilling the cup, “We’re commenting on the scenery.”

“Very nice for see!” Em exclaimed, switching to her limited Trade for Varric’s benefit. Varric laughed.

“Yeah, kid. It’s picturesque out here, for sure. Like something out of a book,” His eyes twinkled, but he was very definitely looking at Lia as he spoke. Lia flushed a little, looking away with a smile, her hands wrapped snugly around her warm tea. Em had to hold in a snicker, which earned her a pointed look from Lia and an almost devious quirk of a brow as Lia casually spoke in Elvhen to Em.

“‹‹I ran into Commander Cullen while I was gathering yesterday. He is very kind.››” She mentioned, raising her eyebrow and sipping her drink with a smirk.

Em felt her own face flushing, “Tel emaronun.” She scrunched her nose up again, “‹‹I wouldn’t know how nice he is. I can’t talk to him.››” Em said, making a face like she’d tasted something a little too salty.

“‹‹Oh, I would have figured Pick would have introduced you.››” Lia hid her remaining smile behind her cup, though she knew she would probably need to back off from teasing shortly.

“Pik?” Em’s tongue clacked hard on the K-sound as she stuttered the name out, not recognizing the surname immediately before realization dawned on her face, “Oh, Meg!” She said in understanding, before her face scrunched up in confusion, “‹‹Why would Meg have introduced me?››”

“Alright, now you’re bringing up names I know, what are you talking about?” Varric butted in again. Em flushed, embarrassed by having had an entire conversation in front of him.

“Just people we’ve met in the village so far.” Lia said, smoothly covering up for Em. 

“Mm! Forgot - Lia need see Harritt for armor.” Em said, gesticulating to get her point across.

“What?” Lia blinked, trying to connect Em’s wild flailing limbs to what she was saying, “Why do I need to see...who? For armor?”

“Harritt. Smith.” Em said, trying to go slowly so she wouldn’t trip over her words, “Make for armor. For you.” Her hands gestured towards Lia’s entire person to make her point, the shawl slipping from her shoulders and pooling behind her on the chair. She scrambled to catch it so it wouldn’t drag on the floor, “Ah! Fenedhis…” She cursed, picking it up and draping it gently over the back of her chair.

“Oh, okay. When does he want me to see him?”

Em shrugged, “Harritt said when awake, see. Not more know.”

Lia nodded, jutting her lower lip out and raising her eyebrows with a slight tilt to her head, “Alright then. Shall we?” She glanced to Varric.

The dwarf nodded, “Finish your drink and we’ll head on over.” 

Lia gestured to her cup and the pot as she responded, “Already done.” She said, with a smile, “Let’s get going. I don’t want to keep anyone waiting too long.” Em snagged the shawl off the back of her chair and passed it back to Lia, adjusting her cowl around her shoulders and shrugging on her hood with a grin as they stood up.

“Em,” Lia sighed, “You need something warmer.”

“Is quick trip.” Em protested, her smile falling to a scrunched pout.

“It’s cold out there, Kitten. You shouldn’t wander around without something to keep the cold out.” 

Em huffed, frustrated at the mother-henning from both sides. “Is  _ fine _ . Just short walk.” She groused, “‹‹I am an adult, you know.››” Em rolled her eyes, “‹‹I do know my own limits, thanks.››”

She missed the wince on Lia’s face, “‹‹I’m just worried, Em. I’m sorry.››”

Em deflated almost immediately, “‹‹I know, but I  _ have _ been here the same amount of time as you - longer if we want to only count waking hours. Just...Trust me?››”

Lia nodded, coming around the table and wrapping her arms around Em, “‹‹Of course, I’m sorry.››”

“‹‹No, I’m sorry. I’m just...a little tired of being treated like I don’t know what I’m doing…››” She sighed heavily, shaking her head, “We go?” She asked, gesturing towards the door. Varric nodded and Lia wrapped her shawl around Em’s shoulders too, so they could share. Em grinned a little, though she was still feeling a little prickly.

She looped her arm in Lia’s to make walking side by side a little easier as they followed Varric out of the tavern and down the path towards the smithy.

* * *

The journey from the tavern to the blacksmith was uneventful. Under the shared shawl, Lia and Em giggled a little as they attempted to walk enough in sync that they could cross their stride over one another’s steps. They wobbled a little and it certainly wasn’t a straight line but it was fun. Varric shook his head at the two, joking that the two looked like they’d spent far more time in the tavern than they actually had. Em stuck her tongue out at him petulantly and Lia snickered before they stumbled again and had to correct their balance before continuing.

Lia had always wondered about the occupants of Haven. The game only allowed for conversations with a few non-Inner Circle NPCs, which were entirely limited but offered some very compelling tidbits of backstory she’d wanted to explore further. It was a shame, but she supposed the limitations of game development could be allowed as an excuse -  _ this _ time. The limited interactions with Harritt in particular - now that she thought on some of the conversation trees - always painted him as an extremely interesting character and it was somewhat frustrating she couldn’t find out more about him.

Therefore she was pleasantly surprised by the gruff, but jovial, red-moustached man who greeted them outside the sheltered open-air structure of the smithy. Harritt was a friendly fellow and he introduced himself before showing her around. Em meandered off to go see the horses and Lia figured out why she was so eager to leave the warmth of the furnace when she realized how loud sounds echoed in the space. Harritt didn’t keep her in the main part of the smithy long, guiding her and Varric to the attached building. Em caught sight of them, trailing along like an adult woman-sized duckling. This image was helped and enhanced by Em’s insistence on making quacking sounds every few steps as she followed along.

After a quick look at the relevant schematics that Harritt showed her, she started pulling elements she liked. It took a while, but when they finished going over the options Harritt had, he let her know that in a few days time the armor for both herself and Em should be complete and that he’d send someone to let them know it was ready. He also spoke about making Em a set of daggers - two for in hand and a set of five to throw - as well as getting Lia her own staff. He had a few runes on hand and would be able to craft her one that would suit her height and casting style a bit better than the one she’d scrounged on her way up to the rifts with Cassandra. She hadn’t felt the staff she’d used on the way to the rift was bad or didn’t fit, but Lia felt appreciative that he took the care to be concerned about it. After all, what did Lia know of how a staff was supposed to feel?

Once they’d concluded their business, Lia thanked Harritt profusely for his help and his offer to create their armor, “I look forward to talking to you again and working with you on other things that might come up!” She wrapped Em’s shoulders with her shawl as they all made their way out the door.

“O’ course, m’lady.” Harritt said, a bright grin on his face, “You and Lady Blade take care, and we’ll see you all soon.” 

And with that the trio of Em, Lia, and Varric made their way back up into the gates of Haven.

While they’d been in the smithy with Harritt, Lia had brought up the comment he’d made about the armor she and Em had been wearing before they fell from the Fade. He had explained that whatever they’d worn during the Conclave was no better than rags when they finally came back through to this side of the rift. He mentioned having taken a look at the armor when it had been brought back to Haven but that there had been little to salvage. She’d thanked him for the information. There wasn’t much she could do with it, but it was useful to know regardless. 

Shaking the wayward thoughts from her head, Lia bumped her shoulder against her friend’s with a quick smile that Em returned as they walked back up through the village.

They enjoyed another meal at the tavern - Lia and Em continuing to get to know Varric outside of their knowledge of him from his portrayal in the games. Both of them listened to him tell stories over the noise of the people filtering through the tavern as the evening wore on.

Finally the tavern was full, Em was drifting off beside Lia, and their cups were empty of their respective drinks. 

“I think it’s time we get this one to sleep,” Lia said, soft enough that she didn’t disturb her dozing friend, but loud enough to be heard over the din of the crowd. Her skin felt too-tight as her eyes glanced around at the crush of people. Varric watched her carefully, before nodding.

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get out of here.” He smiled, standing and offering her his hand to help her out of her own seat. She gently woke Em, who grumbled before tucking herself in tight next to Lia’s side, both arms around Lia’s waist as she stood, leaning heavily into the slightly taller elf.

The three shuffled through the crowd and out the door that led to the apothecary, it being the closest to their now customary table. Just like the night before, the sounds of the tavern were muffled almost instantly as the door closed behind them and they stood on the snow-covered pathway. Huge white snowflakes were falling from the sky still, creating a pervasive silence that further dampened the sounds from inside Haven’s buildings. With the heavy cloud cover, the only light was from the Breach, so they used the green glow and the soft firelight from the various windows to navigate past Varric’s tent and down the stairs to the cabin where Lia and Em were apparently staying for the rest of their time in Haven. 

Varric helped open the door so that Lia could lead the sleepy Em to her cot, still out in the middle of the room. She got Em to sit up and helped remove her cowl and boots before the other woman decided enough was enough, curled up on the cot, yanked her blanket over her, and went promptly to sleep. Lia patted her shoulder gently with a fond smile, before turning to Varric and gesturing towards the door silently, then following him out.

“Thank you,” She said once they’d closed the door to the cabin, now standing in front of the building in the dark. No one was wandering around in this area at the moment, most either already abed or in the tavern relaxing.

Varric shrugged, giving her a toothy half-smile, “Any time.”

They exchanged a wave and a final farewell. Lia watched Varric make his way back up the steps, towards his campsite in the middle of the village. She glanced up at the great Breach in the sky, her breath shuddering a little as the green glow bathed the snow-covered landscape while fat snowflakes continued to fall from the thick clouds above them.

She could do this, she thought to herself, she could do this and succeed and she and Em would be able to go home and this would just be a really fucking weird story they would share between them and it would be fine.

It would be  _ fine _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations direct from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true):
> 
> On dhea - Good morning  
> Andruil’an banalhan’ne shalasha - Andruil's blighted armor!; another one I worked extra hard on probably for no reason. Pretty much it's a literal translation and I did my best at the suffixes as I could.   
> Tel emaronun - Not fair (or as close as I could get)  
> __


	5. Booosh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em and Lia are settling into life in Haven, so let's add some more responsibilities on their shoulders, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite my attempt to get all of these up in one night, it's slow going because I have to go through and double check the HTML from the rich text conversion actually stuck.
> 
> Text between the ‹‹ and ›› brackets is Elvhen, translations at the end of the chapter.

Em breathed heavily as she braced against Meg’s assaults. Her double daggers - blunted practice blades - crossed above her head to protect her from the downward swing of Meg’s longsword.

“Good!” Meg grunted, sliding her blade across Em’s left dagger as Em twisted out of the lock. She spun and switched her grip on the blade, flicking it behind her to tap loudly against Meg’s breastplate. Another spin the other direction and Em caught the taller woman in a chokehold, her right-hand dagger against Meg’s throat.

“Yield!” Meg called, lowering her weapon. Em released Meg and spun her blades with a little flourish, liking the way they felt in her hands. It had been a surprise to feel so natural with them on the mountainside. It was an even greater surprise that the feeling stayed - new blades forged specifically for her feeling more like an extension of her arms in the practice ring.

“You let me do that.” Em muttered accusingly, scrubbing her face with a damp cloth to get the sweat off before taking a swig from the waterskin offered to her by Meg.

“Which part?” Meg asked, looking impressed and sly at the same time.

Em rolled her eyes, “Me behind you. Had plenty of time to get away, didn’t.” Em explained where she’d seen the opening, “Should no yield there, either.”

“Good eye. See? You are learning.” Meg looked incredibly proud, “You’re right, I did let you get behind me, but mostly because I was surprised at you spinning away like that. I was sure you’d try to go in from the front or you’d back up the whole way.”

Em grinned, though it was a little more like playfully baring her teeth at the other woman, “Learn dance, maybe get better?” She teased, twisting away from a wide swipe of Meg’s arm.

They’d gathered the usual crowd and Lia leaned against one of the training dummies as she watched, Cassandra on the other side of the same dummy. The two were murmuring to one another - low enough that not even Em could hear what they were talking about. She wrinkled her nose as she watched the two swap something between them with a grin. They’d bet on something and Em couldn’t figure out what it was. She and Meg weren’t so evenly matched in their bouts that there was anything worth wagering against. Em was very clearly still learning how to handle herself in one-on-one combat. 

Em huffed and shook her head, shoving hair that had fallen loose from her braid off her face. She heard Meg giggle behind her, the sound unusual enough that it caused Em to turn her head. She saw the other woman fighting a smile, glancing at something slightly off to Em’s other side. Em followed her gaze to see the cadre of soldiers that had been watching her and Meg, but that wasn’t unusual enough to be of note. There was jostling amongst the soldiers and she did catch sight of Cullen among them. Also not unusual as he generally observed their sparring matches, coaching the soldiers through things Em was learning - or that’s what Em figured he was doing. Why else would he be over here?

She caught his eye and blamed the flush in her cheeks on the brisk cold of the mountainside and her recent exertion. She gave him a small smile and wave, which he returned with a weird wincing smile of his own. His mouth moved as he spoke to one of the soldiers before he took his leave from the side of the practice ring. The practice ring itself was simply a line of stones arranged to create a barrier around the sparring area. Em shrugged, looking back around at Lia, Cassandra, and Meg - who were all standing close to one another and laughing loudly. Even Cassandra was chortling, which was unusual enough that Em raised her eyebrows questioningly at the three.

No explanation was forthcoming, so she chose to ignore their grins and conspiratorial looks at one another. If it was important, Lia would tell her.

“Sahrena, Ashael, would you join me at the Chantry? There is business regarding the Inquisition to discuss.” Cassandra offered, gesturing away from the practice ring and up towards the gates of Haven. Em nodded as Lia passed her jacket over. 

The armor Harritt had made for them both was functional as clothing as the days became colder and colder up on the mountainside. Lia still wore her frock-dress but instead of the thick over-dress, she more and more often opted for the shin-length, sleeveless leather jacket and thick cloak she wore now. The cloak was waterproofed, as Em’s own jacket was. With the threat of snow in the heavy-hanging clouds overhead, Em couldn’t fault her for wanting the extra protection against potential dampness, especially as they had so few things to call their own here.

Em thanked Meg for her time, as she normally did, and the three women left Meg to her devices, making their way up to the Chantry in relative silence. Em was still catching her breath a little and trying to straighten out her clothing to make herself presentable as she walked. She kind of wished she’d had a chance to at least remove her leather breastplate, but it was what it was and it couldn’t hurt her image to show up a little more armored and prepared beside Lia.

The Chantry was as imposingly quiet inside as ever and Em couldn’t stop herself from admiring the architecture as she did every time she entered. It was a gorgeous building and the soft light of the candles throughout the stone structure made it all the more imposing and impressive. 

Em caught sight of Lia flexing and clenching her left hand, and she glanced at her friend with concern. Lia caught her eye and shook her head minutely. She had explained to Em a few times that the mark itself didn’t hurt, necessarily, but sometimes it would flash with a phantom pain like what she’d experienced on the way to the Breach or it would itch oddly. She generally kept it covered by wearing fingerless gloves because, though it wasn’t very visible in daylight, the mark did glow and occasionally draw attention when indoors or in low light. 

“Does it trouble you?” Cassandra asked, having also caught the fidgeting motion Lia had made.

“Nah, just itchy.” Lia murmured, “Sometimes it feels like it’s hurting, but nothing changes. I’ve checked with Solas about it when it does, but he’s pretty sure it’s nothing.” 

“Pretty sure?”

Em snorted a laugh, “Resident expert…” She muttered with all the sarcasm she could muster, “Only ‘pretty sure.’”

Lia sighed, but was smiling, “Yes, Em, we all know what you think about it.” They’d had the conversation several times now about how Solas’ answers regarding the mark were incredibly and frustratingly vague, but Lia had reminded Em time and again that no one actually knew what to expect out of the mark and that based on the events of the game, it was unlikely anything bad was happening to it just yet. 

“What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach.” Cassandra replied, “You’ve given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed – provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.” 

“Yes, give more power. Bigger eggsplode.” Em grumbled under her breath. She heard Lia fight back a laugh and received a gentle kick to the ankle for it. Em hopped a little with a whined protest, mostly for show, “‹‹Why are you kicking me? I’m right.››”

“‹‹You’re a menace.››” Lia teased. “I take it there are some ideas on the table for how to accomplish what you’re looking to do?”

“One could say that, yes.” Cassandra looked amused at their antics as they approached the door to the war room. They’d only been in there a handful of times since their initial meeting with Roderick, Cassandra, and Leliana after Lia had recovered from sealing the rift at the Breach. Mostly they met to talk about things that weren’t terribly pressing - details regarding the Chantry that Roderick would bring up or details about the current situation in Haven itself. It had been made clear that as the Herald of Andraste, Lia was to help with overseeing things - alongside Em, the Maker’s Blade. Which was the stupidest title she’d ever heard, but what could she do about it? Nothing.

Inside, Leliana stood behind the war table chatting with a woman wearing clothes made of fabric that shimmered under the torchlight like sheets of gold. Dark hair was pulled off her face in a tight chignon at the back of her head and curls fell loosely around her face. She held what Em could only describe as a medieval clipboard with a candle on it and was gesticulating with the quill in her hands as she spoke. At the other end of the table stood a figure in armor wearing a thick furred cap, stern eyes glancing up as Lia, Em, and Cassandra entered the room.

“Ah, Cassandra.” Leliana greeted, interrupting her quiet conversation with the woman in gold, “Is Cullen on his way?” 

The woman turned as Leliana spoke, smiling brightly at the three, which showed the tiniest gap in her front teeth.

“Commander Rutherford was...delayed.” Cassandra said, exchanging a raised eyebrow with Lia that Em pointedly ignored.

“Well, we’ll just introduce him when he arrives.”

“Greetings, Lady Cassandra!” The other woman said, her voice accented entirely differently from anything Em had heard so far in Haven, “And, ah, the Ladies Herald and Blade.” She nodded a quick bow to the elves, “Andaran Atish’an.” The bright smile on her face never wavered. Em noticed the faint smudge of dark shadow over the woman’s eyelids, similar to the kohl-based cosmetics that Em favored once she’d been introduced to them here, though applied with maybe a little less heavy of a hand. Em had never been great with the artful application of makeup. 

“Enaste’sha,” Lia and Em responded automatically at the exact same time. The woman blinked.

“Oh, um. Yes, well…That’s about all the Elvhen I know,” She murmured, flushing slightly.

“Allow me to introduce Lady Josephine Montilyet, who will be our ambassador and chief diplomat.” Leliana gracefully interjected.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Montilyet.” Lia said, her face softening to that same look she got when she spoke to or about Varric. Em bit her lips together to avoid doing or saying something stupid about it, giving Josephine a friendly smile.

“Nice meet you.” Em said, brightly, “Is all Trade I know.” She joked with a wink.

Josephine let out a startled laugh, “Oh, I see. I apologize I didn’t mean to-”

“Is fine.” Em waved off, “Learning is slow. I make joke.” She smiled a little less cheekily and recited the greeting she’d practiced with Varric and Lia, “My name is Ashael, it is nice to meet you.” She was even pretty sure she’d remembered every word and had pronounced everything correctly this time.

“And you as well, Lady Ashael.” Josephine smiled back - she was incredibly pretty and Em felt at once charmed as well as intimidated by her. It was a weird feeling.

“This is Sahrena Lavellan,” Leliana continued the introductions.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Lavellan.” Josephine nodded, turning her charming smile onto Lia. Em watched, amused, as Lia flushed and stumbled.

“Just Sahrena is fine.” She mumbled, fighting not to wring her hands together, her cheeks a dark pink and Em had to look away in order not to devolve into laughter. Oh Lia was  _ definitely _ getting teased about this later. 

In looking away, Em caught the eye of the person in the room who still hadn’t spoken, giving them a nod of her head in acknowledgement.

“And this is Ser Threnn, who will be quartermaster and handle all requisitions for the Inquisition.” Leliana continued. Em saw her gesturing towards Threnn out of the corner of her eye and Em gave a small smile. 

Threnn raised a fist to her chest, bowing a little, “Your Worships.”

Em and Lia simultaneously flinched, “Uh, just Sahrena and Ashael will do, thanks.” Lia said, a pained smile coming across her face.

Threnn narrowed her eyes a little, but nodded, “Alright.”

The door opened behind them and two more figures piled into the small room, the current occupants shuffling around to allow space. One was Cullen, who shuffled in beside Threnn with a tight nod that the woman returned. The other was an elf in blue, fur-lined robes, her ears twitching nervously under short red hair.

“Evening.” Cullen muttered as a greeting.

“Everyone, this is Commander Cullen Rutherford. He will be leading the Inquisition forces.” Cassandra introduced.

“Such as they are,” He grumbled, a little under his breath. Lia fought not to snort a laugh in agreement. “We lost many in the valley.”

Lia nodded, glancing at Em who - in lieu of trying to focus on the conversation - was starting to focus more on the map and notes scattered around in front of them. It was still a struggle for her to keep up during long discussions as the effort of mentally translating everything and trying to respond quickly became tiresome. Lia nudged her gently to get her to focus again.

“I hope we can avoid further losses in the future, but I know that’s a bit of a fool’s errand considering…” Lia sighed, “You know, everything.” She gestured lamely to encompass the entirety of the situation they found themselves in.

“Indeed.” Cullen tilted his head in an almost-bow. “And this is Minaeve.” Cullen gestured to the elf who had followed him in, “She’ll be helping with researching our enemies and the Breach. I believe you have already spoken with Solas?” Cullen directed the question at the mage herself.

“Ah, yes. Yes, I have.” Minaeve nodded, her hands twitching at her sides like she wanted to wring them in front of her. Her ears flickered and twitched in a manner that Lia and Em recognized as nervousness - nearly imperceptible movements, but there nonetheless.

Em gave Minaeve what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Minaeve was young, clearly not much older than about 18 or 19. Based on what Em could remember of the games, Minaeve hadn’t even undergone her harrowing before the Circles had collapsed. And instead of running away or trying to hide all on her own, she’d taken the Tranquil in her Circle and protected them. Em couldn’t help but be incredibly impressed with the bravery that required. 

“Um, yes. Solas has given me some information on what he was able to find out about the Breach and the rifts, and I’ve got several of my fr- of the Tranquil looking into it.” Lia blinked at the slip of the tongue, but smiled pleasantly at Minaeve.

“Excellent. Your help looking into this will be most appreciated. I’d also like to take some time and look at what’s going on with you, if you’ll let me.” She said.

“Oh, um. Yes, your-your Wor...I mean, Lady Sahrena.” Minaeve glanced at Cullen - who was pointedly not looking at any of the elves in the room, but gave a small nod of his head at Minaeve’s questioning glance while still staring down at the papers littering the table in front of them. So the word  _ was _ getting out about Lia and Em’s preference - or lack thereof - for their titles. Lia supposed Lady Sahrena was better than Herald of Andraste, despite still not being super comfortable with it. If she thought of it like the practice of calling someone “Miss Lia” or “Miss Em” back home, well...it was slightly more palatable that way.

Em turned to Threnn again, “Is need for...iron and wood, yes?” She pointed to a missive next to the map where a requisition order was set down. Threnn nodded.

“Yes, m’lady. If we can acquire a reasonable supply of both, we might be able to outfit more soldiers with better weapons.”

Em nodded, blinking as she fought to translate the other woman’s speech, “Okay. Is, I think, good logging area nearby. Few men has found.” She nodded to herself as she spoke, “For iron, need mine.” Her lips twisted into a pout of concentration.

“The mines on the mountain pass - what were those used for?” Lia stepped in, directing the question to Cassandra.

“I am not entirely sure. Leliana?”

“I will have my people look into the records for it. It would be very helpful to have a source so close by.”

“In the meantime, we can have some of our men look for deposits nearby. Otherwise, we may have to start looking into importing iron - which could be just as expensive as purchasing ready-made weapons.” Cullen frowned at the map.

“I will also look into finding other options,” Josephine added, “I may have some contacts who would be willing to work with us on that.”

“Excellent.” Threnn said, looking surprised and pleased at the same time, “Meantime, I’ll keep scrounging for what we can find around here, see what else we can come up with, what else we might need.”

“I’ll have someone get you set up somewhere semi-permanent for a bit,” Cullen said. Taking that as a dismissal, Threnn nodded, saluted, and left with a final goodbye to everyone.

“Oh, Minaeve,” Lia suddenly remembered the cloth she’d picked up on the way up to the Temple, “I had picked up something from after I’d closed one of the rifts. I don’t know where it is - it’s probably been lost, actually, now that I think about it, but it was like a kind of cloth covered in, uh, Fade-goo.” Lia described, using her hands to gesture to the rough size of the fabric she remembered picking up, “I’d put it into one of the pockets on the belt I was wearing with the armor I’d used?” She looked to Cassandra for confirmation.

“We may still have that armor,” Cassandra nodded, “Lady Ashael’s was discarded due to the...extensive damage, but I believe yours was still intact and should have been placed with the rest of the armory.”

“Right, I think it might help, if we can find it.” Lia said, nodding and giving the young elf woman a kind smile.

Cassandra opened the door to the war room, peeking out and gesturing to someone in the Chantry to come closer. As they approached, she spoke, “Please take Researcher Minaeve with you to the armory and try to track down the Herald’s armor from the day we closed the rift at the Breach. There is something within one of the pockets that will be of use to her.”

“Right away, Lady Cassandra.” Came the answer as Cassandra ushered Minaeve back past Em and Lia and through the door. Once the elf was clear, Cassandra closed it once more which left the group of six alone in the room.

The Seeker turned to Lia again, “I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good.”

Lia inhaled deeply and nodded again. She felt like a bobblehead doll with all this agreeable nodding she was doing, “Right. More power, bigger explode.” She murmured Em’s earlier comment. Em snickered.

“Eggsplode,  _ booosh _ ,” She chuckled, making her hands form the rough outline of a mushroom cloud. 

“Indeed.” Cassandra’s lips quirked up as she shook her head a little. Lia shoved Em gently with her elbow, trying to contain her own giggles.

“ _ Diana~, _ ” She chastised her friend gently. Em stuck her tongue out.

“‹‹Am I wrong?››” Em responded, crossing her arms in front of herself. Josephine tittered, trying very hard to contain her own amusement at their quiet bickering.

Cullen and Leliana were also fighting their own expressions of amusement, Leliana slightly more successfully than Cullen.

“I believe the best way to seal the Breach would be by adding power from the Mages.” Leliana began.

“Almost all of whom have rebelled.” Cullen responded testily, “It would be better to go to the Templars, who would be able to suppress the magic of the Breach, allowing for the use of the mark unamplified. This would reduce the risk of...ah...explosion.” He finished, gesturing towards Em, who made another mushroom cloud shape with her hands.

“ _ Booosh _ ,” She whispered. Lia kicked her again and Em pouted. “Diana dirashal em!” She whined, “‹‹I need those ankles!››”

“‹‹You  _ need _ to stop,››” Lia hissed back, “‹‹It’s serious discussion time, Em.››” Lia cleared her throat and turned back to the others, “Okay, so the Templars could suppress the magic of the Breach - but they’ve rebelled as well.” She pointed out.

“We need power, Commander.” Cassandra chimed in, “With enough magic poured into that mark-”

“My  _ hand _ , Cassandra. I’d like to keep it.”

Em was ignored by most of the rest of the room as she skittered to the corner - farther from Lia’s sharp kicks and nudges - to make another quiet, “ _ Booosh _ ,” sound.

“The Templars could weaken the Breach-” Cullen began, but Leliana cut him off.

“Pure speculation - we don’t know that they could do that.”

“ _ I _ was a Templar; I know what they’re capable of,” Cullen countered, almost snarling as he leaned into the table towards Leliana.

“Oh, so you’ve faced down a giant tear in the Veil that threatens to destroy the entire world?” Lia asked, sarcastically, crossing her arms in front of her chest and giving Cullen a skeptical eyebrow raise.

“That’s not what I meant, and you-”

“We know nothing at this moment, Commander,” Leliana chided.

“Ah! Enough!” Em called out, finally stepping forward, “Is serious about eggsplode - I make joke for easy talk, but is serious.” She sighed, “Fine. Does your way.” She shoved herself between Cullen and Leliana, “Magic may make easier - may make eggsplode. Templars may make easier, may do nothing. Por que no los dos?”

The entire room blinked for a moment, in silence.

Lia chewed on her lower lip. The two had been conferring almost every night to try and hash out a method of dealing with the Breach - who to turn to, how to go about getting the right people on their side. Their favorite option was attempting to gain the allyship of both Templars and Mages, thus pulling the rug out from under Corypheus’ feet before he could get a chance to rally. Though it seemed they were going to propose the idea a lot sooner than initially intended.

“Ha-...Hablas Antivan?” Josephine said, the first one to break the silence. Now it was Em and Lia’s turn to blink.

Em had mostly just been leaning on her casual use of meme-phrasing in everyday conversation. It had become second nature to her to use the phrase whenever making a decision didn’t necessarily have to be choosing one or the other.

“Ah…sí?” She responded, holding her forefinger and her thumb up in a pinching motion, “Um...solo un poco.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about this?” Leliana asked.

Em shrugged, “Not important at time,” She hedged around an explanation before shaking her head and gesturing towards Lia, her face bright red, “Back to eggsploding friend? If can get Mage  _ and _ Templar to help, can make sure less chance of eggsplode.”

“It’s...a sound theory.” Cassandra said, leaning heavily into the topic to help avoid further discussion of Em’s apparent grasp of an entirely different language, “But how would we get the Mages and the Templars both on our side?”

“Is not perfect plan.” Em admitted with a sigh, “Is...hm… ‹‹Lia what’s the word for telvenirast?››”

“Flawed.” Lia answered.

“Flawed. Is flawed plan.” Em repeated the word.

“Mostly because neither group will even bother speaking to us yet,” Josephine remarked, “We have no power behind us to sway them one way or another.”

“Big hole in sky not big enough?” Em grumbled, sourly.

“Apparently not, Lady Ashael.” Josephine chuckled a little, “No, there are certain circles referring to you, Lady Lavellan, as the Herald of Andraste-” Lia winced, “And you, Lady Ashael, as the Maker’s Blade. Much of the Chantry is frightened by this - a majority have declared us heretics for harboring you.”

Lia and Em exchanged a weary glance - they’d done all they could working alongside Roderick, Leliana, and Cassandra over the past week or so to try and mitigate the Chantry’s response to the Inquisition, but apparently it was all for naught.

“Right. Excellent. Herald of Andraste. Great.” Lia muttered darkly, glaring down at the map for a lack of anywhere else to set her angry gaze.

“People saw what was done at the Temple - how you stopped the Breach from continuing to expand, how Ashael defeated a Pride Demon single-handedly,” Both women looked at one another long-sufferingly, which apparently went completely unnoticed, as Cassandra continued, “Many of them also heard about the woman who was seen behind you when you fell out of the Fade. They have come to the conclusion that the woman must have been Andraste.”

“Even if we tried to dissuade them of that belief-”

“Which we have not.”

“Which you have not.” Lia and Em spoke at the exact same time and in the exact same cadence as Cassandra as she interrupted Leliana.

Lia sighed again, nodding and raising a hand to rub at her temples, “Sorry, go on.”

“The point is, people are talking.” Cullen interjected. 

“People are  _ always _ talking, Cullen.” Lia said, “We’re not...We weren’t sent by your god, by your Maker and his Andraste - whatever-she-was.” She waved her hand dismissively, garnering a few disgruntled looks from around the table, but Lia ignored them, “We both really would prefer that those names not get out of control. I’m not exactly looking to lead a cult out of Haven - I hear they’ve had enough of that for several Ages.” Em snorted derisively at the comment and Lia quirked her lips up in a weak smile.

“I will do what I can, Lady Lavellan,” Josephine said, scratching away on her board, “It will not be easy, but I think your denouncement of the titles will help put the Chantry’s mind at ease.”

“People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some you  _ are _ that sign.” Leliana pointed out, seeming the most irritated by Lia’s casual dismissal of Andraste and the Maker.

“Yeah, well, I never asked to be, did I?” Lia spat back, irritation clawing its way up her throat - or perhaps that was bile from the nauseous anxiety pooling in her stomach and making her feel flushed and lightheaded all at once, “I’m  _ Dalish _ , Leliana. So is Ashael. We’re not from your Maker, we weren’t sent by Andraste. And I’ll tell you one thing right the fuck now, all the shit we need to get done will go a lot faster if the Chantry isn’t trying to stop us at every move because  _ some people _ are claiming two Dalish elves are somehow divine.” Well, she hadn’t really intended to reveal quite that much, but the anger and fear were starting to bubble over. She took a mental step back, inhaling deeply, holding the breath for a few seconds, and then exhaling slowly. “I apologize - I should not have snapped at you like that. My point still stands.” She concluded with a finality in her voice that brooked no argument.

Leliana let out a heavy sigh, “There is something we can do to help with Chantry relations. Chancellor Roderick has sent word to several clerics throughout Thedas. One of them, Mother Giselle, has asked to speak with you. She is not far from here, perhaps a few days' ride at most.”

Lia nodded, “Alright. That seems reasonable. If Roderick vouches for her, I trust his judgement.”

Cassandra huffed a little, but seemed to concede the point. Roderick was nothing if not overblown and prone to dramatic hyperbole when discussing the current situation, but he did have good information once you pared it down to what he meant under his fear or irritation.

“She’s out in the Hinterlands at The Crossroads. It’s not far from Redcliffe.” Leliana leaned in and pointed to the location on the map. Lia traced the distance between their marker in Haven and the position of Leliana’s fingertip.

“A few days ride, you say?” Lia hummed, “Would we be using the very limited supply of horses the Inquisition has, then?”

“Ah, a good point.” Cassandra said, “We might be able to spare one or two - probably more as pack animals than mounts. The horses are draft animals. Suited for farming and heavy loads more than riding.”

“So about how long at a walk?” Lia asked, putting her hand up to her chin and pulling at her lower lip as she thought.

“Assuming the roads stay clear for the most part, I’d give it less than a week. About five days of travel.” Leliana commented.

“Speaking of horses, there is a matter you may want to look into while you’re out there. The old horsemaster of Redcliffe still lives in the area and we could definitely use his expertise if not his mounts.” Cullen said, picking up a leaf of paper with the information on it before handing it to Lia to peruse.

“I have sent scouts to the Hinterlands to take a look at the situation already - they arrived a few days ago and sent word back by raven. They’ve had difficulties with getting where they need to go in the area due to the fighting between the Mages and Templars in the area.” Leliana found the missive and passed that to Lia as well.

Lia’s eyes tracked down the page to the signature at the bottom and had to stifle a grin. She would get to meet Scout Harding - maybe the Hinterlands wouldn’t be so bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, direct from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true):
> 
> Enaste'sha - Graced / Blessed to be here; I added apostrophe to help with emphasis of syllables because i needed it and for no other reason than that.  
> Diana - stop (or as I had it originally before I looked up Elvhen words to go in, _staaahhhpppp_  
>  Diana dirashal em - stop kicking me!  
> telvenirast - not perfect
> 
> __
> 
> Chapter length regulation? What's that???
> 
> Next chapter is the last one I've got ready to go.


	6. Avoidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before they leave for the Hinterlands, Em has to confront Solas. She _really_ wishes she didn't have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is the last of the pre-prepared chapters. It's probably going to be a while before the last 6 come out but I do have them planned and I have started on them so there's that. 
> 
> I've actually had this chapter written for a lot longer than I've had the rest of the story written. I'm pretty sure I've worked it into the current flow and everything effectively, but if it reads weird in places, that's why.
> 
> Text between the ‹‹ and ›› brackets is Elvhen, translations at the end of the chapter.

Em laughed and clapped along to the music the soldiers were playing near the fireplace in the Singing Maiden. She didn’t know the tune or the song, and singing made it difficult to understand the words, but she knew a good time when she was around it and frankly everyone here needed the chance to relax. It hadn’t been nearly enough time since the stabilization of the Breach for everyone to really feel completely comfortable, but they were starting to loosen up more and more. It would happen in waves and spurts, the sudden collective realization that right now the world was _not_ ending, that everything could be okay, and that those in positions of power were working to fix the problem even further.

That Em was one of those people in power was something she was desperately trying to ignore by visiting the Singing Maiden and not thinking about the journey she and Lia would be going on in the morning.

A contingent of scouts had left early the previous week to assess the situation in the Hinterlands. They had reported back a few days later about the Mage and Templar fighting going on, the situation at the Crossroads, and Mother Giselle’s request to be seen by the Herald of Andraste and the Maker’s Blade - Em mentally shuddered against the title even as she only thought of the reference in Mother Giselle’s letter. The past few days had been Lia, Em, Josephine, Cullen, Leliana, Cassandra, and Roderick working together to try and figure out what to do first. 

Roderick was also leaving, his journeys taking him to Val Royeaux so he could start working with the Chantry leaders to bring them around to the side of the Inquisition. It made Em’s stomach twist anxiously as she had no idea how to predict what would happen, but it had been agreed that it was the best use of the Chancellor’s talents and influence, despite her own misgivings about the situation.

Leliana would stay to receive and distribute information from Haven, communicating with her scouts located all throughout Thedas, but specifically those who Lia and Em would be contacting in the Hinterlands. Josephine was in charge of making sure that any pilgrims who arrived in Haven were taken care of and housed with their meager supplies, as well as continuing her work with her own contacts and connections to see what could be done to increase the clout of the Inquisition in a positive direction.

Cullen was to train and manage the recruits who were starting to trickle in already, and who Lia and Em figured would increase to a flood once things were settled in the Hinterlands, if only because that’s how it went in the games. Meg Pick was becoming Cullen’s second-in-command quickly, due to her friendliness with the Commander from their time in Kirkwall, as well as her general ability to hold her shit together and still be a friendly face amongst the forces gathered so far. Em was exceedingly happy about this because Meg was a good person to hang around with and they worked well together. All three of them, did, really, but Em tried not to focus on that because now was not the time to develop anything more than a passing crush on anyone. Even if they couldn’t predict the outcomes of the unfolding events, they were just too busy to think about much more than what they were all currently working on.

The small band of people who had set up in the corner of the tavern were taking a break, and everyone started to turn back to their tables, conversation swelling in the absence of music. Em startled a little as she raised her tankard to her lips to drink, the mead sloshing over the side, as someone gave a gentle but insistent tap to her shoulder.

“Hm?” She hummed in acknowledgement as she hastily wiped her mouth to catch the drops that had spilled. Em raised her eyes to the left, where Nissa stood, anxiously wringing her hands.

“‘Scuse me, my Lady,” Nissa murmured into Em’s ear, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the crowd, “But, um, the mage, Solas? He wants to talk to you.” Em struggled to hide her grimace at the mention of the only elven mage in the village she _didn’t_ want to talk to, draining her mug of mead quickly and wincing at the burn of the sharp-sweet alcohol through her chest. 

She nodded at the other woman,“Thang-k you, Nissa.” Em smiled as cheerfully as she could to cover her expressions, trying to put the other woman at ease, “Where find him?” It was definitely harder to string her words together as the mead rushed to her head and caused her to feel a little dizzy - chugging was _not_ her best idea, but her Momma didn’t raise no quitter and, while she was pretty sure that those gathered in the tavern could be trusted, she couldn’t shake her instinctual fear of leaving her mug full and unattended, even for a moment.

Nissa fidgeted some more, which was more to do with her own inability to be still rather than her actual nerves, as Em had learned. As a fellow highly-strung individual, Em could sympathise with her and continued to try and stay as calm as she could. “He’s over near the apothecary.”

It had taken several days for Em to stop assuming that people would be stationed in one particular area of Haven and rarely move away from there. It had been almost jarring to find Varric at the smithy and downright upsetting when she’d caught Solas over by the Chantry garden. It was nice, however, because she loved hanging out at the apothecary with Adan. As a break from the healing and prepping and gathering that they generally had to do, the two of them played mad scientist - trying to come up with fun concoctions to use that weren’t strictly for medicinal purposes. And if she didn’t always have to worry about running into Solas, it was even better.

So of course tonight, when Em would have much rather wandered around wasting time and not finding Solas, he was right where he was supposed to be. _Fabulous_. 

“Thang-k you.” Em’s tongue continued to click on her K-sounds as she spoke, trying not to let the buzz of the alcohol take away her limited capacity for speech with the other residents of Haven, “I will go see.” She stood, closing her eyes against the rush of dizziness as she did so, before patting Nissa gently on the shoulder, “Nissa, you deserve rest too. Very busy.” Em raised her gaze to the bar where Flissa worked the taps of the kegs and fussed at the soldiers that were too drunk. When she caught the bar-woman’s eyes, she smiled, gestured at Nissa, and indicated that she was to get something on Em’s tab, “Get a drink of your choice. On me. I take care.” She smiled at the younger woman, who flushed before rushing into a flood of thanks, “Shh, no. Just enjoy, Flissa knows.”

And with that, Em left through the side door behind her, headed towards the apothecary.

It was silent - Even more so than normal, with a fresh layer of powdery snow covering the landscape. Em took a second outside of the door of the tavern to breathe in the cold mountain air, shaking herself a little as she pulled her leather jacket tighter around her shoulders. She hoped the floaty feeling in her head would calm down by the time she had to talk to Solas, but she knew her metabolism better than that. She repressed a sigh - she’d have to hold her own against the other elf while just on the drunk-side of tipsy. That’d teach her for trying to have a relaxing evening before having to travel.

She mounted the steps carefully, making sure to place her feet steady on the stone steps before climbing them, the ice from snowmelt earlier in the day and the fresh snow on the stairs now conspiring to make the pathway more dangerous than usual. The full moon glinted off the snow and made deep black, sharp-lined shadows that obscured what they covered from view almost completely. Em watched the shadows with a wary eye, glad that her naturally good night vision hadn’t left her when she’d traveled from Earth to Thedas. She could nearly see the shapes of crates and barrels in the darkness of the moon-made shadows, which allowed her to walk past them with less trepidation than she might have otherwise. She did have to admit that possibly some of her ability to see better in the dark now might be due to her being an elf now, but she tried not to think of that.

Em found Solas exactly where she expected to, standing near the wall looking out over the lower tiers of Haven - exactly where he could be found in the games, she noted wryly.

“On dhea'lam, Solas,” She greeted, her voice softer due to the late hour and not knowing if the people who occupied the beds in either of the buildings next to the apothecary were trying to sleep or not.

“On dhea’lam, Ashael.” He nodded his head at her in greeting, “‹‹Walk with me?››” He asked, gesturing towards the desire-path between the apothecary and the cabin that led to the Chantry. She nodded, not really wanting to go with him, but she also didn’t want to wake up anyone with their conversation. She hoped whatever it was he wanted to discuss wouldn’t take long and would be fairly straightforward. Why he couldn’t wait until morning, she didn’t know, but the man was frustrating like that.

As they started on their walk, Em broke the silence before it could fall too heavily on them, “‹‹Nissa mentioned you wanted to talk, not to walk,››” She said, a grin tilting her lips as she tried to be friendly - she always tried to be friendly. She couldn’t _not_ try to be friendly. It was so deeply ingrained in her to be as polite and friendly as possible that she even would attempt jokes with people like Solas who she didn’t necessarily care to talk to, but who she couldn’t get away from conversing with in the first place. 

“‹‹Yes, I had wished to discuss...››” Solas paused there with a hum, as though he were trying to find the right words to say next, “‹‹Simply a matter I think would be best discussed privately between us.››” He decided on finally and Em resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“‹‹I can’t think of anything off the top of my head that would be so sensitive a matter between us that we couldn’t discuss this on the road tomorrow, or even amongst friends.››” She said, not quite keeping her testiness in check. She really oughtn’t have finished her drink so quickly. 

“‹‹It is definitely something we should discuss before we begin our travels tomorrow, as we will be on the road for some time together and I do not wish there to be anything impeding our working relationship.››” Well that was super informative - _not_.

“‹‹Solas, I have no idea what you’re talking about.››” Em said, stopping in front of Threnn’s requisition tent. They were getting close to where people would be settling down for the night, and she really didn’t want to keep anyone awake with their talking.

“‹‹I...you’re right, I apologize. I do not wish to hold this conversation where we might be overheard - it is late and others are turning in for the night.››” He gestured towards their continued path. Em bit back the exasperated sigh she desperately wanted to release at his dramatics.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” She muttered in Trade, the phrase coming to her as it so often did when she was dealing with recalcitrant new recruits alongside Meg - or attempting to talk sense into the other advisors on why they probably should _not_ poke the sleeping dragon that was the Chantry just to get a rise out of them, “‹‹Fine. Let’s walk.››” She stepped forward with purpose, navigating the slope down between the tents and the buildings, past Seggritt’s house, in front of Varric’s tent, down the stairs and through the square where Seggritt’s booth was set up - empty for the night, but still set up. They passed the turn Em would normally make to head to the cabin she and Lia shared - though she did spare a glance to see firelight flickering through the cracks in the doors and reflecting in the snow on either side of the house. She hoped Lia had been able to escape Leliana and Josephine’s clutches early enough to get to bed in a timely fashion. Traveling was going to be hard enough on both of their sleep schedules as it was - it wouldn’t do to get a rough start because Lia was kept up later than she needed to be.

They exited the open gates - no point closing them when there was no threat at the moment and most of the soldiers were in the tavern anyway. The stairs were slick - slicker than the ones up to the apothecary, and Solas was at least gentleman enough to assist Em down them when she skidded a little and nearly busted her ass on the stone stairs. He’d caught her elbow and the two made their way down to level ground carefully. 

They headed right, towards the training grounds where most of the soldiers slept. While there was a large crowd in the Singing Maiden, she could hear the distinct sounds of sleeping from many of the tents. Solas led the way up the path, beyond the soldiers’ tents, taking the fork farther up that led towards the abandoned cabin Lia had shown her, where she’d found Master Taigen’s notes before realizing whose they were. The two went beyond the cabin, through the pass between the rocks and out towards the direction of the logging site she and Lia had helped Threnn set up. 

Finally, out in the middle of the snowy fields overlooking the lake - pond? How big did it need to be before it was one or the other? Em shook her head, dismissing the wayward thought train - they stopped. The small herd of druffalo was standing shoulder to shoulder a ways off, their sleepy breaths misting the cold air above them. The moonlight cast a silver sheen to everything. There were no trees or rocks or anything close enough to cast a shadow - just Em and Solas standing in the middle of blank snow.

Had this been literally anyone else, anywhere else, at any other time, Em would have found the setting somewhat romantic. The stars were twinkling in a busy tapestry above them, the moon - only one, this time of year - glowing bright and full, snow creating a hush, completely alone in the middle of the woods.

Actually, no, scratch that, definitely not romantic. This was almost for certain a serial killer location. In the real world this is exactly where she would die. 

“‹‹Alright, Solas. I’m pretty sure we’re far enough away to not bother anyone. Unless you think the druffalo are too close?››” She joked, trying to dislodge the rock of anxiety that was starting to build in the pit of her stomach, her arms crossing over her chest both in a defensive gesture and also to keep her fingers warm. She hadn’t anticipated a hike in the middle of the night or she’d have brought her gloves.

“‹‹Ir abelas, Ashael. You’re right, this is...probably more private than necessary.››” Solas at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed. Em huffed a laughing breath through her nose, like she’d read something hilarious on the internet, “‹‹There is simply a matter I wanted to bring up, and I wanted to make sure we had the ability to discuss it fully.››”

Em made a rolling gesture with her right hand, “‹‹And? I’m not a mind-reader, Solas.››”

“‹‹You...have been avoiding me. Why?››”

Em couldn’t help the slightly hysterical bark of laughter that escaped her chest, “‹‹What?››” She shook her head before dropping it back so she could stare into the stars as she spoke, “‹‹Solas, how have I been avoiding you? I followed you out here in the middle of the night because you wanted to talk - that’s not the actions of someone who avoids someone else.››”

Though, to be fair, she hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to interact with him. And she did not enjoy talking to him, generally, so while it wasn’t necessarily _avoiding_ him, she knew she hadn’t been the friendliest towards him. Not that she should have to be, she defended to herself. He was kind of an ass, after all. Also he wanted to save the world so he could destroy it later and that didn’t exactly endear him to her. She might have been a little reluctant to spend more time than she needed to with him, considering how he had - intentionally or not - caused the destruction of the Conclave, which had killed thousands of people.

“‹‹This is the first time you and I have spoken about matters not pertaining to the Inquisition or its purpose since Sahrena recovered from the explosion at the Conclave.››” Em could hear a note of frustration in Solas’ tone and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but she knew it didn’t feel _good_. He continued, “‹‹You had the option to have someone who knew both Elvhen and Trade assist you with learning Trade and you chose to work with someone who only knew Trade. Even when you needed help and I attempted to give it, you rejected my assistance. Why?››”

Em groaned a little, rolling her head so she stared down at the snow for a moment, before looking up from under her brows at Solas. He was standing stock still, arms at his sides. His head was shiny in the moonlight and it would almost be hilarious, if the look on his face wasn’t so distressing. He looked angry and frustrated and...disappointed. And Em had no idea why.

“‹‹You and I have nothing to discuss between us that isn’t Inquisition related, you realize that, right?››” She began, before addressing his other point, “‹‹No, I didn’t choose to go to you for help learning Trade. Why should I have? Unless it had to do with Sahrena, you barely paid me any mind for the first two weeks I was here.››” Em explained, exasperated, “‹‹I’m sorry if my first thought wasn’t ‘Hey I need to learn a whole new language while my friend _could be dying_.’››”

She exhaled loudly, scrubbing her hand over her face and pushing her hair back - she’d need to tie it up properly before they left in the morning. She had let it down so she could have something to do with her hands when she needed to fidget. The remnants of tiny braids she’d done while they were planning earlier in the day caught on her fingers as she combed her hair off her forehead.

“‹‹We do not share anything important outside of the Inquisition,››” She said softly, “‹‹I am no mage, I have no knowledge of magic outside of...no, I have no real magic knowledge, at all,››” She laughed a little at herself, “‹‹You dislike the Dalish - and modern elven culture in general. I just don’t see how I’m avoiding you if I don’t have anything to discuss with you in the first place.››” She was staring out at the icy surface of the pond-lake, the lights of Haven flickering out and reflecting faintly off the cold water.

“‹‹I have never said I do not like the Dalish.››” Oh sure, of course he’d latch on to _that_.

Em bit the inside of her cheek as she regarded Solas again, “‹‹Really? You don’t have to _say_ it, Solas. Just like how Varric doesn’t have to _say_ he hates when people bring up his Tale of the Champion. You scoff when it’s brought up in conversation, you speak derisively about our practices and traditions, you literally refer to me as ‘da’len’ when we speak. I’m sorry, but I’m going to infer that you think of me and my beliefs as childlike when you literally call me child when we talk.››” She rolled her eyes at the thought, “‹‹Obviously you’re not Dalish and you’re not a city elf - or even an elf who has lived among humans, based on what I’ve gathered. Dunno exactly what it makes you, but whatever it is, you don’t think of yourself as elven. You act like you’re better somehow, just because you know ancient secrets from _however_ it is you’ve found them out-››”

“‹‹No that’s not- I have tried to impart my knowledge from the Fade to the Dalish clans I have come into contact with _several_ times, but I was met with hostility when I did so.››”

“‹‹I fucking wonder why that is, Solas.››” Em said, flatly, “‹‹Were you going to let me finish, or are you planning on talking over me and condescending me some more?››”

He had the good sense to look at least a little admonished by her chastising, “Ir abelas, da’len.”

Em grunted angrily, throwing her hands in the air and beginning to pace a little, no longer able to stay still as she discussed this with him. Her anger and frustration coursed through her body as her fight or flight instincts kicked in over their arguing, “‹‹Literally, what did I _just_ say about that? This is the fucking point I’m trying to make, Solas. I’m short, but I’m not a child. If you’d like me to stop thinking that you believe me and my people as less than you, maybe don’t fucking call me a goddamn child when I’m an adult and have been for _several fucking years_ .››” She snarled, shoving her hands across her scalp again and tugging on the strands lightly to try and center herself. God he was just so _fucking…_

She stopped her pacing and took a deep breath in, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly. As she tried to calm herself, she heard Solas clear his throat and she glanced at him, her eyebrow raising. He didn’t look or sound like he was trying to interrupt again, or even to make any kind of point. Just clearing his throat for something to break the silence that had fallen again as Em worked on making sure she didn’t lash out and regret anything later.

“‹‹Ugh, okay, where was I before I was interrupted?››” She muttered to herself, crossing her arms in front of her chest again as she thought. A single finger tapped on the sleeve of her leather jacket as she tried to figure out where she’d left her train of thought. “‹‹Ah, fuck it. Anyway, you act like you’re better than everyone because you have lucid dreams in old buildings. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. Sorry we’re not all willing to try and sleep with giant spiders and are content with the dreams we have. Honestly, some of us have better things to be doing, like fighting for survival in this world that we live in right here and right now.››” She finished, now mostly just tired about the whole conversation. This was so stupid, she hadn’t been avoiding him anyway, this conversation didn’t need to happen _at all_.

She shifted her weight so she was leaning further away from him, sucking her tongue to her teeth with a sharp _tsk_ sound, before she continued, “‹‹It’s not that I don’t appreciate that you have knowledge of _our_ history, or that you want to share it. That’s exactly what the Dalish and our Keepers are trying to do - so we can honor the good we’ve done and try not to repeat the bad. I don’t know how you fucking missed that, but like...can that not just be enough? That we’re trying?››” She sighed, looking hard at Solas and trying to read his face, though the angle of the moonlight caused shadows that obscured some of his features, making it difficult. Not that he was exactly easy to read on the best of days, considering he masked most of his emotions for some reason.

From what she could see, it did appear that he was taking what she was saying into consideration, “‹‹I just do not see why the people - or, our people, as you insist - should have to settle for half-forgotten histories and memories of a time that was but a shadow of the empire the Elvhenan had? You must see there could be so much more.››” Solas spoke with an earnestness that was as frustrating as it was promising. 

“‹‹Ignoring that you still don’t see yourself as an elf, though I’m pretty sure the ears give you away there,››” She tried for a joke and got a quirk of Solas’ lips for her efforts - not a smile, but it would do, “‹‹The Dalish have fought hard for where we are now. So have the city elves. So have the elves who live among humans in the wild. We’ve struggled for millennia, pulling ourselves up from where we landed when Arlathan fell. There have been setbacks and we have crawled back up again. And again. And again. We have shown how strong we are - stronger now for what we have been through and lost and gotten back. We have what we have because we fight, because we honor those who came before us and gave us the tools to move forward and _grow_. Why must we cling to a past we cannot go back to - maybe shouldn’t go back to. Why is it so bad to create something new, something better? To start from where we are now?››”

The two stood quietly for several moments - Em would forever curse the lack of ability to tell time in this universe. Wasn’t there something about the Dwarves of Orzammar having some sort of time pieces? She wondered absently how much it would cost to commission a clock from them just so she could have some idea of how to tell time. Finally, she sighed, breaking the silence once more.

“‹‹So you asked me why I was avoiding you. I still wouldn’t say that’s what I was doing, but I just do not have the time or energy to be condescended to when it already happens every moment of every day of my life. You think of me as a child because I’m Dalish. Varric treats me like a child because I’m relaxed around him and Sahrena and, yeah, okay, sometimes I act immature because _it’s fun_. Everyone else does it because I can’t speak their language properly, they think I’m not smart, that I’m stupid and younger than I am simply because I didn’t choose to learn their language. I’d much rather deal with people who treat me as an equal - if a kind of childish equal - than someone who treats me as an idiot for my beliefs and my way of life when I’ve done nothing to deserve that treatment, other than being born who I am, where I was, in the age that I was born in.››” With that final note, she sighed, her shoulders drooping as she dropped her arms. She turned to follow the tracks they made in the snow back to Haven, but as she twisted away, Solas grabbed her wrist.

She turned back to him, her eyebrows raised in question, glancing between where his hand - she tried very hard not to think about how large it felt around her wrist, how warm his calloused skin was - gripped her and his face.

“Wait, please.” He said, not pulling her closer, not actually stopping her from stepping away, but she stayed anyway, “Ir abelas. Again. ‹‹I have offended you. Would you forgive me?››”

Em blinked before a bark of laughter bubbled out of her chest, the sound echoing back at them from the icy water and the stones of the mountain around them, “‹‹Probably not, no.››”

Solas looked startled, his hand going lax on her wrist. She didn’t contemplate why she didn’t pull away from him. His wide, down-turned eyes blinked owlishly at her and the expression of open confusion nearly made her laugh again, “I am sorry?” He sounded offended, “‹‹I don’t understand.››”

Em rolled her eyes, smiling a little, “‹‹Clearly.››” She snorted, finally pulling her hand away and crossing her arms back in front of her chest as she regarded the elf in front of her. She took in the fact that he was only wearing his tunic and breeches and the foot wraps and nothing else - how was he not _freezing_ ? She was feeling the cold through the leather jacket that had been made specifically so she could withstand the cold mountain weather, so he _had_ to be absolutely frigid out here.

With a resigned sigh she dropped her head back onto her shoulders again, gazing up into the stars above them. There were so fucking many of them - even with the full moon’s light there were hundreds of thousands of them visible to the naked eye. She’d never seen so many stars before in her _life_.

“Okay.” She murmured, “‹‹We’ll start with the basics. What exactly were you apologizing for? Offending me?››” He was quiet for a moment and she glanced back down to catch his nod of affirmation, “‹‹Well, I’m not offended, Solas. Not really. Well- Okay a _little_ offended. But mostly I’m insulted. And not about me.››” She continued, raising her voice a little when it looked like he might interrupt her again, “‹‹You have summarily in this conversation alone, not to mention all the other ones I’ve referenced already, insulted my people as a whole, my clan, my family, my best friend - who is the only chance _your people_ have got at making sure this world doesn’t explode from the inside out - or outside in, I don’t know which...››” She trailed off a little before shaking herself and continuing, “‹‹And finally, the least of all who you’ve insulted is me. You’re going to have to do better at apologizing because what you’ve done so far? Barely covers what insulting me requires as an apology. 

“‹‹And even if you were to give a better apology and actually feel remorse for your behavior towards _my people_ ,››” She emphasized the difference for him, bitterness lacing her words so fully that she suddenly understood the phrase “being salty” as she felt her mouth become dry and sour as she spoke, “‹‹I’m still under no obligation to forgive you. No one owes anyone else forgiveness for behaviors. Do with that what you will, I don’t particularly care either way, but I might suggest taking a look at how you view the world and seeing if maybe your mind isn’t a little more narrow and closed than you initially thought, hm?››” She turned from him once more, and he did not stop her this time.

She followed their path back to Haven, a quickness in her step spurred on by the adrenaline of the argument and the cold bite to the air that seeped in through her leather jacket and her boots, from standing still in the snow in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

“Someone’s back late,” Lia’s voice teased from her bed in the corner as Em closed the door quietly behind herself. She winced a little, as she’d been trying to avoid disturbing Lia if she’d been asleep - as she _should_ have been with their early morning coming up.

Lia was sitting in the middle of her bed, piles of papers and stacks of books spread out around her like she was studying for some sort of exam. On Em’s own bed were their travel supplies, still laid out from earlier when they were beginning to pack their things.

_Oof, looks like the Terrible Trio are back at it again. Couldn’t let her have one night to prepare for travel, huh?_ Em mused to herself as she shook her head with a wry smile, shedding her jacket and boots and beginning to get ready for sleep.

“Took a walk.” Em responded as Lia extricated herself from the disaster that was the bed, tidying a space to allow for her movement without disrupting the controlled chaos before coming over to greet Em. She hissed, however, when she took Em’s hands in her own.

“Shit, Em. You’re fucking freezing. Get over here and sit down,” Lia scrubbed the icy digits of Em’s fingers in her own, dragging the now barefoot Em over to the fireplace and plopping her down on the fur that sat between their beds in the middle of the room, before standing again and grabbing Em’s blanket and draping it solidly over Em’s shoulders. It was the same one Leliana had given her back when she’d still been imprisoned under the Chantry, and Em frequently wrapped herself up in it for comfort and warmth during the evenings. 

Em hadn’t really told Lia how she’d come into possession of the blanket, it had just been a staple of Em’s belongings since Lia had woken up properly and it hadn’t really been questioned. She was pretty sure Lia knew that Em had been taken into custody just as Lia had, but they had never discussed it. 

“What possessed you to take a walk at this time of night _here,_ in the middle of winter?” Lia asked, genuinely confused as Em shivered in front of the fireplace, the thick fleece of the blanket and the heat from the fire conspiring to show her exactly how cold she’d been outside. Em shrugged, avoiding answering as she stared into the dancing flames, burrowing deeper into the blanket and tucking herself into Lia’s side as the other woman settled next to her.

“‹‹Blame Solas››” Em responded finally.

“‹‹The man or the emotion?››” Lia asked. Em barely kept herself from rolling her eyes even as she chuckled. One of the most frustrating things about Elvhen was how many double meanings there were.

“Person.” Em felt like her tone was a little more short than she’d initially intended, and she winced as she took note of how it sounded. She hurried to minimize the irritation in her voice with further explanation, “‹‹He wanted to talk. We talked. Had to go a ways out because it’s late and people are sleeping.››” She shrugged, glancing at Lia briefly, “Went long.”

“Clearly,” Lia’s voice was dry, but she was smiling, “So~oo, what did you talk about?”

Em sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed for a second, peeling at the chapped skin as she groaned, “Lia-a.” She dramatically flopped backwards onto the floor, grunting with the impact as she stared up at the wooden beams that held the roof over their heads. The floor was cold and hard and she hadn’t bothered uncrossing her legs so there was a strain in her hips as she lay there, but it was a good stretch and she decided it was comfortable enough, “Fine. ‹‹He said I was avoiding him. Discussion occurred. He’s a pompous ass, and I kinda….told him about himself.››”

“‹‹Gonna need more details than that, Em. That’s a hell of a fucking lead in.››” Em groaned.

“Ugh, ‹‹nosy. It doesn’t matter, either he’ll remove his head from his ass or he and I will continue not speaking about anything outside of Inquisition-related topics. Which was apparently his complaint.››” She huffed, trying to dislodge a lock of hair that had fallen on her face during her controlled collapse onto the floor. “What are you even working on?” Em gestured widely to Lia’s bed with her arm, letting it drop to the floor once more with a thump. 

She watched Lia glance back over to the extraordinary amount of paper and books on her bed with a grimace, “Trying to make sure I don’t fuck anything up while we’re in the Hinterlands.” She muttered, following Em’s lead and dropping down onto the floor to lay there and stare at the ceiling together, “‹‹And I don’t want to talk about that, I want to talk about you fussing at Solas. What did he say?››”

“‹‹What kind of things - I could help.››” Em gave it her best effort to actually change the subject, but Lia was not to be deterred.

“Requisitions, diplomatic issues, history and customs, and stop changing the subject.” Lia gave her a playfully stern look, “I want to be distracted and you’re going to distract me. ‹‹What. Did. You. Talk. About.››”

Em bit back another groan, gazing into the darkness of the ceiling above them. The only light in the cabin was from their fireplace and the warm orange glow was enough to read and see by for most things, but the high peak of the roof above them didn’t allow for that light to travel terribly far upwards. Em was pretty sure she could actually make out the beams and rafters, but she couldn’t completely decide if it was her brain processing the images or if she just really remembered where it all was supposed to be.

“‹‹I told you, he said I was avoiding him. I’m clearly not _avoiding_ him. I just don’t have anything to say to him. He’s a dick, he’s condescending, and he absolutely wears his asshole as a turtleneck and I just...››” She groaned, running a hand over her face in sudden mental exhaustion, “‹‹It’s a damn shame he’s as pretty as he is, but there’s no way in hell I’m getting anywhere near that dumpster fire of a situation. It is _not_ worth the headache.››”

“Come o~on. That’s not details, and if you’re going to continue teasing me about Varric and Josephine, I’m going to get everything from you about this conversation.”

Em pouted at her friend, draping her arm over her eyes with a sigh, “Fuck. Fine. ‹‹I don’t know...I told him I don’t actively try to talk to him because he’s kind of a dick. He didn’t take that criticism well, so I had to explain it. Might have...ranted a bit.››” She sighed, “‹‹I mentioned how he doesn’t like the Dalish - asshole tried to tell me he never said that, to which I was like, bullshit. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s not what he says it’s how he says it, how he acts. So I had to explain to this grown ass man how his actions mean things.››” Em felt a little embarrassed with how she’d handled the conflict with Solas, and frankly she disliked having to go over it all as it just cemented the fact that there were about a hundred million different and better ways she could have done that entire conversation. It probably wouldn’t even change anything so what was even the point of going through all of that?

“‹‹What did he say to that?››” Lia’s participation in Em’s story helped dislodge Em from her start in on a self-deprecation spiral.

“Fucking…” Em breathed out heavily as thinking about his responses made her angry on the inside again, overriding her embarrassment over her own reactions, “‹‹How do you think? Tried to tell me he was in the right, so I had to explain to him how he fucking isn’t. Made sure he knows he’s a shit teacher due to his condescending asshole status. He got shitty with me about it so I went off. I’m not interested in being talked down to all the damn time - it happens enough as it is, I don’t need to seek it out from him,›› thank-you-very-much.” Em growled as she spoke, not literally, but she wouldn’t have been surprised at this point if that were something elves could do. She was glad it wasn’t, though.

“Wait, what? ‹‹What do you mean you’re talked down to all the time? No one talks down to you, do they?››” Lia’s voice was genuinely distressed and Em peeked out from under her arm to blink at her friend, before cursing quietly.

“Nothing. Is nothing.” Em glanced away again, swallowing around the deflection. Lia, however, was insistent.

“‹‹No, it’s not nothing, Em.››” Lia’s voice was stern and Em fought the urge to roll away or sit up or do anything and just lay there with Lia who had propped herself up on one elbow, “‹‹Have people been giving you shit? You told me you and Adan had it handled.››”

“We do.” Em sighed, “‹‹No one...no one says anything _bad_. And definitely not around Adan or you - that’s a fucking death wish, pissing off the two best healers in the Inquisition.››” Em chanced another look at her friend, and was unsurprised but disappointed that the flattery hadn’t softened the look Lia was giving her, “‹‹It’s really not a big deal. I just...because I still don’t speak Trade well, I get shouted at like I’m deaf. And while I know I’m kind of immature and also short, I’m still an adult and sometimes I think a lot of people see me as a kid. I just...choose not to be spoken to as a child where I can help it, and that means reducing interactions with people who treat me that way - like Solas.››”

Lia’s face was stormy, “Josephine mentioned this sort of shit…” She muttered, darkly, “I thought she meant the rumors around the Inquisition and maybe a couple off-hand comments from new people. I didn’t realize…” Lia’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust.

“‹‹I didn’t want you to know, Lia.››” Em sat up a little and touched Lia’s hand, comfortingly, “‹‹No one’s insulted me, not outright, not to my face - I think they’d have to be stupid to do so, apparently I’m a good fighter.››” She quirked her lips up into a wry smile, thinking back on her training with Meg and the crowds of soldiers they’d gather around them as they sparred, “‹‹No one would dare do it in front of you, either. Mostly because they have very little reason to talk to me if you’re there, but like...I can handle it myself. I just choose not to deliberately put myself into those situations. So I don’t talk to Solas. Which was the whole point of the conversation and how we even got here in the first place. It’s _fine_.››”

Lia sighed, heavily, sadly, “‹‹It’s not fine, but I understand what you mean.››” She rubbed her eyes tiredly, and Em watched her hand shift up as though she were trying to navigate under glasses that were no longer there, mildly amused as she recognized the motion from her own reactions to no longer needing corrective lenses, “‹‹I’m still talking to Josephine about it. Maybe she can have something done by the time we get back from the Hinterlands.››” Lia grunted and lay back down on the floor, glaring up at the ceiling, “‹‹Whatever about the fancy titles and whatnot, but everyone deserves respect - especially you, considering you saved all our asses out there with the rift and the pride demon at the temple.››”

Em scoffed, blushing, “‹‹I really fucking didn’t. It would have been handled if I wasn’t there.››”

“Em! Handled, maybe, but you were incredibly efficient and no one died. I don’t know if there’s a body count from the game, but I’ll bet anything that people survived on that mountain that wouldn’t have if you weren’t there.” Lia scowled, chastising Em, “‹‹You need to work on your self-esteem. Meg has said you’re incredible at fighting, and she doesn’t mince words. I trust her judgement on your abilities - and that was _before_ you started picking up tips and tricks from her. 

“Pah, what need I respeg-kt and fancy titles for?” Em grumbled playfully, “‹‹I got the best friend in the whole universe and beyond with me. I don’t need anything else. Besides, like I said, I can choose not to interact with some of these people. So I choose not to interact with them.››” Another shrug and Lia sighed, long-sufferingly.

“‹‹Just tell me the next time it happens so we can nip it in the bud, alright? You don’t deserve that shit.››”

Em closed her eyes and nodded, wrapping her arms around Lia and pulling her close, “Alright, fine. I let know if happen again.” She snuggled her face into Lia’s shoulder and the two sat in silence in front of the fireplace for many minutes more, enjoying the cuddle and ignoring the absolute mess of papers on the bed.

“Ah. Fuck.”

“Ahn?”

“We gotta clean the beds off so we can go to sleep.”

“Shit. ‹‹D’you think we could get away with just sleeping on the floor?››”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen translations, direct from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true):
> 
> On dhea'lam - Good evening  
> Ahn - what  
> __
> 
> Again, it's going to be a while before I get the second half of this up, but I'll do it all at once again so you do have that to look forward to! 
> 
> Keep up with updates and my random bullshit on [my blog](https://dredshirtroberts.tumblr.com) in the meantime, and check out information that I use as reference material, view art of Lia and Em made by myself and [Sumomo](sumomoblossom77.tumblr.com) at the [Lia & Em Blog](https://lia-and-em-adventure-in-thedas.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you've enjoyed! :)


	7. The Hinterlanding (Road Trip!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lia & Em head to the Hinterlands to address the Crossroads situation and talk to Mother Giselle. I add in as many nerdy references as I possibly can. Everyone has a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I *wanted* to do this as a big update like last time where I uploaded the whole second half of this part and just let y'all deal with it.
> 
> But my doc was getting too big and wouldn't let me write without lag and I couldn't do hardly anything on mobile anymore so we're uploading what I've got so far.
> 
> Also this is getting longer than I anticipated so I've changed the number of chapters to ??? because I don't even know anymore you guys. Anyway, here's the continuing adventures of Lia & Em in Thedas!
> 
> Text between the « and » symbols is Elvhen, translations of Elvhen come from Project Elvhen 
> 
> Any Elvhen translations are at the end of the chapter

Lia and Em did eventually collect themselves up off the floor—once they stopped giggling anyway. They also managed to clear off their beds without just arm-sweeping the whole mess onto the floor, which they were very thankful for when they woke up the next morning to a knocking on the door.

The poor messenger who had been sent to fetch them was probably not anticipating the frantic crashing noises, nor the still-half-asleep cursing that came from inside the cabin at his hail. He had awkwardly advised them of the time and how long they had before they were meant to meet up with the others and then walked away to muffled shouting and further crashing noises as two voices called back their thanks. Within minutes both women stepped out into the daylight, their bags packed and hoisted onto their backs, and made their way out to the stables.

Once they arrived, Em immediately jumped into learning how to load the draft horses with the supplies for the trip, flitting around and fussing with straps on the bags as she was instructed. Cassandra and the stablehand were helping show her how to appropriately distribute the load so that the horses would carry the weight evenly, clearly something Em was enjoying learning. As she watched, Lia thought she remembered Em talking about how she’d been one of the Horse Girls in grade school and maybe that Em had actually once ridden horses for a time? That may have been one of her other friends, though, Lia thought as she smiled fondly at her friend, who was grinning ear to ear and asking all sorts of questions about the horses.

Lia found herself a little more wary of the giant as fuck-all horses. They were six-feet tall at their shoulders, minimum, and their hooves were as big around as dinner plates. She’d never been around many horses in general, outside of the equine management class she took in high school, and even then standard sized horses gave her reason to pause. These two were practically _monsters_ with how big they were. In the back of her mind, she wondered if they might even be lightly Fade-touched with how large they were, but she had a sinking suspicion they were just naturally that big.

Em continued cooing over the horses like they were particularly well-behaved dogs, stroking their fur and patting their sides as she adjusted the straps and buckles of their burdens. It made her seem like some sort of wild fairy-type creature. Lia practically expected her to stop and point at something useful but otherwise obvious and shout “Hey! Listen!”

“«Aren’t they gorgeous, Lia?»” Em asked, clearly enthralled as she stroked her hand down the flank of the roan. It whuffled deeply in pleasure like the big dog Em was treating it as, tapping its back hoof on the ground. She didn’t wait for Lia to answer, and instead turned back to Cassandra, asking, “Have names, Cassandra?” Cassandra apparently informed Em whether or not the horses had names, but Lia tuned them out and focused instead on double checking her and Em’s packs. 

Lia muttered the items she rifled through to herself, mentally checking off each one from her internal list as she came across it: spare underthings, a set of extra breeches each, more socks, personal rations in case they became separated from the main group during a meal, potions—everything was there. 

She was so engrossed in her task that she didn’t realize someone had approached her until a teasing voice came from over her head, “Alright, _my lady?”_

Lia startled, immediately going from crouching over the bags to standing—or she tried anyway. The sudden motion cracked the top of her head into Varric’s chin with an audible clunk as her skull hit his jaw and his teeth banged together. The pain sent Lia back into a crouching position as she clutched her head while Varric reeled backwards and they both cursed.

The commotion drew attention, of course, and Em had apparently seen the whole thing because she began cackling with delighted glee as soon as it happened. The sound of her laughter echoed through the valley as Lia glared up at her. Em was leaning heavily against the horse she’d been tending to, clutching her stomach with her eyes closed against the force of her merriment.

“Ah, shit. Are you okay?” Varric asked, only a little grumbly, as he helped Lia back up to her feet from a safer distance. 

“I'm fine, I think my hair caught most of it—how are you? I clonked you pretty hard in the chin.” Lia replied, steadying herself. She shook the stars out of her vision and the scowl she had been directing at Em dissolved as she turned to Varric, examining him for bruises. She knew, intellectually, that it was unlikely that he’d have visible bruising from the impact so soon afterwards—if it had even been hard enough to bruise him—but that didn’t stop her from checking anyway.

“I’ll live, Sahrena.” Varric chuckled, “I’ll try not to surprise you next time though.”

Em was now squeaking breaths through her laughter, sounding a bit like a hysterical seagull, using the sturdy straps on the horse she was beside to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground as tears started leaking from her eyes. 

_“Someone_ is in a good mood,” Cassandra hummed, though Lia couldn’t tell if her tone was amused or sour about it. Lia sighed, shaking her head.

“«Inhale, Em. You have to breathe at some point.»”

“«Your—heee—your fucking _face._ Fuck—ahahahaha—oh shit, _shit._ Fuck.»” Was all Lia got in response.

“Ugh,” Lia grunted, turning back to her bags, “At least we’ve got everything packed, as far as I’m concerned,” She muttered. “No thanks to you! Na i’tel’gon vanadirthavean!” Lia shouted over her shoulder, making Em crack up harder and twist herself into the horse’s side as she continued to try and stay upright.

Lia sighed, a familiar long-suffering but fond expression crossing her face as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulders again before twisting her cloak around over top of it and doing the string clasp in the front. 

The sleeveless leather jacket of her armor lay comfortably over her frock-dress and was held closed by her pocket-covered belt. The jacket came to nearly the hem of the dress itself and also had pockets in it. She was fairly certain that if she planned carefully, she could fit the contents of her pack into her jacket and wouldn’t need the extra bag at all. Not that she would try that, as she enjoyed the option of having free pockets to hold additional things she might come across. Plus, there was a strap on her pack with easy releases that allowed her to carry her staff without having to use it like a walking stick if she wanted both her hands available. The staff was new—Harritt having just finished it the day before—and she was eager to see how it would be different from the random one she’d found while traveling up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Em—who was still laughing, though her gasps for air were becoming a little less desperate—was also in her adventuring gear. Lia had gotten used to seeing her friend in the leather chestplate and bracers during the sparring sessions Em had with Meg and Em’s patrols of the soldiers’ training routines. The chest plate lay over her sweater comfortably, able to be laced up without help on the sides, and the bracers fit snugly around her forearms. In addition to these pieces, a pair of greaves sat over her lace-up boots, further protecting her shins and knees. Leather trousers replaced the thick cotton ones Em generally wore and the final piece was her dark leather jacket that settled over all of it, making her look cool and deadly. This was part of what made the image of her collapsed and gasping for breath between giggles so amusing.

Where Lia’s hair was tightly bound into a bun on the back of her head and sewn into place to keep it from slipping or falling out, Em’s was braided back like a french braid all the way to the nape of her neck, where she had tied it off with a leather thong that then criss-crossed down the tail, keeping it all contained. They certainly looked ready for adventure, even if neither was entirely certain how they felt about actually _going_ on the adventure itself.

“Are we ready?” Lia asked the group as Em attempted to compose herself. She took stock of their supplies; they were taking two of the large draft horses, the roan—named Berkley, she was informed later by Em as she was chattering to her about the horses—and a bay—named Roach—who was tied to the roan. The horses were loaded down with tents, campsite equipment, and one large bird cage—occupied by Em’s raven, Da’banaean. Alongside those things were bags of rations, additional potions supplies, a small distillery for potion-making on the road, and some blankets they’d managed to scrounge as extra from the town.

Lia wasn’t going to traipse all over the Hinterlands if she didn’t have to, after all.

“I believe we are, My Lady,” Cassandra nodded, dressed in her own full armor, her shield strapped to her back over her own light pack, and her sword rested at her side in its sheath. 

Varric had on his dark overcoat, which Lia hadn’t seen him in since they’d gone up to the Breach. Bianca was strapped to his back and all the rest of his things were attached to the horses. He tugged on his gloves, “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Is no a show,” Em called, taking the horses’ lead rope and bringing them towards the gate and the main road, “Unless can sing?” She gave him a pointed look with skeptically raised eyebrows.

“Hey, I’m sure Chuckles here has an excellent singing voice,” Varric tossed his hands up and gestured an elbow into Solas’ hip. Solas winced at the jab, adjusting his own pack and staff on his shoulders. He also wore what he’d been wearing on the way up to the Temple—with only a few additions for the long journey they were embarking on.

“I do not believe she asked if Solas was the one able to sing, Varric,” Cassandra said with a stern voice and a twinkle in her eyes that belied her teasing. Lia had learned Cassandra’s tells from bonding at the training ring, watching Em and Meg spar—and Cullen gaze dopily at Em.

“Well, you definitely do not want _me_ to sing. A master wordsmith I may be, but a chanteuse I am not.” And with that, the group headed out down the road. 

* * *

Their route had been mapped extensively so that everyone was aware of their destination and the plan to get there. They would travel on the mountain roads until they reached the Imperial Highway—or what was left of it. From there they would carry on south, taking the highway where they could, until they reached the edges of the Hinterlands. They would skirt the Hinterlands following the path that Leliana’s scouts had determined would be the safest in order to avoid the majority of the fighting, stopping at the camp the scouts had made on the cliffs. With more updated information from the scouts, they would better be able to navigate the roadways in the Hinterlands themselves, getting to the Crossroads to find Mother Giselle and assist the people there. 

The location of the Crossroads was also central enough that they would be able to help address the Mage and Templar fighting and also see if they could get in contact with Dennet, the horsemaster. They planned to spend about a week in the Crossroads, barring any complications, and then return to Haven with their information and, if all continued as the games described, Mother Giselle as well.

The travel was remarkably unremarkable. Varric had received several letters prior to leaving Haven, all from his mysterious friend who knew Elvhen, and had decided to use them and the travel time to further Em’s vocabulary lessons and quiz her on what she already knew. Lia would help when Em got confused or would forget a translation of a word, and Cassandra would pipe in when she felt Varric was being too hyperbolic or metaphorical as she felt literal explanations were more helpful. Of course, this would usually end with Varric and Cassandra bickering about why literal translations were not always helpful.

Solas was notably quiet during these impromptu lessons, only piping in when the others struggled to explain a concept or translation, but otherwise kept to himself. Their nights were spent around small campfires, and during these breaks, Lia would offer an olive branch towards Solas—or whatever the relevant Thedosian metaphor would be—to ask him questions about his studies, his travels in the Fade, what he might share about his past that he was comfortable with. He took it each time, weaving stories as detailed as Varric’s, though Solas tended to lean more towards academic and poetic descriptions rather than Varric’s exaggerated fish-tales and cliffhangers. Varric would sometimes regale the group with tales that were very much not found in Tales of the Champion, though Em and Lia were fairly certain he was heavily editing them for Cassandra’s benefit, as they generally involved not only illegal activities but also the questionable use of magic.

These nights they ate light dinners consisting mostly of the non-perishable rations they’d packed on the horses and in their packs—and sometimes supplemented with game that Varric and Em hunted down. 

Alongside their main weapons, both Em and Lia had been fitted for bows and arrows. Em’s was a longbow that, when unstrung, was almost as long as Lia’s staff. Lia had a much smaller shortbow that was far easier to draw. Both found themselves proficient at shooting in general, but Em relied on what they were now calling their Thedas Instinct and was startlingly efficient at hunting. She was able to quickly find and flush out game, shooting with deadly accuracy that not only caused the animal minimal pain before its death, but also provided the small group with plenty to keep them satisfied until the next evening. The same Thedas Instinct had her cleaning and skinning the game efficiently, like she’d been doing it her whole life. She’d been mostly finished with her first rabbit before she’d realized she’d gone through all the steps and it had taken her some time to come to grips with the fact that she’d done the work automatically. 

Alongside the stories from Varric and Solas, their after dinner and on the road conversations consisted of Lia and Cassandra discussing the plans for the Hinterlands—where to head first if they were able, what their last reports consisted of, who would be best to seek out, information about the scouts in the area that Cassandra had from Leliana, and such like that. Em would often talk about their potential adversaries and weaknesses with Cassandra, and the three would focus on perfecting their strategy for the area so that they had as many contingency plans as possible. The only snag that Lia and Em hit with this was the struggle not to expose too much of their knowledge of the events from the game, which would ostensibly be the future of their adventure here in Thedas.

* * *

During their four days of travel, as Em became more and more confident in her knowledge of the language, she would sometimes initiate word games. This included references from movies and pop culture only Lia would get, but every time was worth it.

On one particularly harrowing stretch of trail that led the group on a narrow ledge along the side of a cliff, Em projected her voice over the whistling wind that howled through the pass, “Hey, Sahrena.”

Lia’s answer was a distracted, “Yeah?” as she carefully placed her foot around a rather large stone in the path, trying to avoid loose gravel and pointedly _not_ looking down.

“Chancellor Roderick...He sure can _fuss.”_

Lia paused for a moment, blinking in confusion as she mouthed the word to herself a few times before understanding dawned across her face. She grinned as she continued inching her way along the path. “I think he likes to yell at _us._ Probably he means no _harm.”_

Em’s grin matched Lia’s as they risked a glance at one another before turning their attention back to their footing, “He’s really very short on _charm.”_

“You girls are sure good with rhymes but is now really appropriate?” Varric interjected as they continued scooching around the cliff-face.

“Em, I think Varric needs to lighten up a _bit.”_ Lia teased, causing Em to toss her head back briefly with a laugh.

“Sahrena, are there rocks _ahead?”_

“If there are we’ll all be _dead!”_ They both laughed, the sound echoing around the canyon.

“Lady Herald, is this the time?” Cassandra snapped, irritated.

“What has everyone against _rhyme?”_ Em responded, grinning widely. Cassandra only let out a disgusted noise, and probably rolled her eyes, though she was in the front of the group and thus no one could confirm.

Varric chuckled at that, picking up on the fact that the game was helping everyone relax a little, and that they were moving a little faster along the trail—whether this was because they were having fun or because Cassandra was trying to get away from the game was unclear. “Say, how do you both feel about _Wicked Grace?”_

“I don’t know the rules. Which is better, Jacks or _ace?”_ Lia responded.

“Are you serious, Varric? You are joining in as well?” Cassandra sounded deeply offended and also irritated.

Em giggled, her enjoyment evident in her voice as she responded, “Is better than if he _fell.”_

“No. Stop that.” Cassandra said, frowning deeply as they all stopped.

“I think I’d look good if I wore a top _hat.”_ Lia piped up, holding her index finger up to interject with a wide grin. Cassandra let out another frustrated groan, throwing her hands up and turning back to their path, starting forward again.

“I thought hats were always worn on _top.”_ Varric added.

“Andraste save me, will you not _stop?”_ Cassandra snarled. A beat or two passed where the only sound was the rushing wind and the screeching of a bird of prey that circled overhead. The realization hit them all slowly, Cassandra being the first to react, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth as her eyes went wide, “Oh _Maker save me,”_ she gasped, sounding horrified, _“What have I_ **_done?”_ ** She whispered to herself as Lia and Em dissolved into giggles.

“That’s the spirit, Seeker!” Varric cheered, “Now it’s time to have some _fun.”_ Cassandra buried her face in her hands with a muffled scream. A moment later she pressed her lips together in a thin line, glaring up ahead of them and decidedly not saying _anything_ else.

Lia, Em and Varric continued on with their game for several more minutes as the trail became steadily more treacherous. Cassandra continued to ignore them as their rhymes got sillier and sillier, Em occasionally breaking out into Elvhen as she focused more and more on the path before them.

Finally, Solas appeared to have had enough, and mid one exchange he cut in, breaking the pattern and stopping the game entirely for a moment, “Perhaps we should focus more on our path?” He asked, irritation slipping into his tone.

“Ahnsul? Aran elana tel temem _tath.”_ Em shot back, frustration lacing her words at his interjection. Where did he get off telling them to stop when clearly they weren’t treating the actual trail as though it were a game, they were merely distracting themselves from the fact that one wrong move would be disastrous.

“Min ea tel vana!” Solas snapped in return, glaring at Em. 

Em returned his glare with a snarl, “Ra’ea thanun, _shan’ishan,_ y eaem tamahn sulrahn’el na nuvenem _gana?”_

“This is pointless and dangerous! We need to be careful!” He replied in outraged Trade.

“Who said we weren’t being careful?” Lia asked, “We’ve been very focused on the trail, to the point where Em was having a hard time contributing until you jumped in. Because she doesn’t speak Trade easily.” The explanation was far too calm and reasonable for Em, who was now ready for an argument. The tension of the path and the ramping up from Solas’ irritated responses and inability to play along made it worse.

“«Let the old man eat his sour grapes, whatever.»”

“«Perhaps you would garner more respect if you didn’t act like a child, _da’lan.»”_

Em wheeled around on Solas, a risky move considering their precarious position, “Na nuvena dara? Na nuvena pana? San, lasaran pana!”

Varric, who stood between the two, held up his hands, and gently placed them on Em’s leather-covered shoulders, “Whoa whoa whoa, alright. I think that’s actually enough now.” Varric said and Lia thanked him mentally for jumping into the middle of the building argument, “It was all fun and games until the responses sounded threatening.”

Solas sniffed derisively and looked unbearably smug from behind Varric. Em’s murderous look intensified. How _dare_ he go and look like he’d won. Em was going to hit him. She was going to hit him right in his stupid, dumb, bald face.

“That’s enough, and I mean it.” Lia said, softly to Em, pulling her back onto the path and heading to catch up with Cassandra who had missed the majority of the argument by ignoring all of them and continuing forward as if they were following still. Probably a smart move, Lia figured.

Em huffed, crossing her arms in front of herself and glowering sullenly, but she gave a small, weak smile, “Anybody want a peanut?” She responded softly as she followed Lia on their careful shuffle around the cliffside. Lia wondered—not for the first time—what Em and Solas had _really_ said to one another on their last night in Haven. The quick turn in the atmosphere of their game had been somewhat jarring and it hadn’t happened until Solas had spoken up and Em had responded. Maybe it was better that she didn't know...

* * *

The small group made better time than anticipated despite not being on horseback. They approached the surprisingly large campsite to friendly voices halloo-ing at them. Em handed off the horses’ lead to one of the scouts who picketed and hitched them with the few other mounts at the campsite, before rejoining the group. 

Lia was approached by a dwarf woman about half a head shorter than her, freckles speckled across her face and down into her armor indicating time spent in the sunshine outside of her duties for the Inquisition, “The Herald of Andraste and the Maker’s Blade! A pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard the stories—everyone has. We know what you did at the Breach. It’s odd for Dalish elves to care about what happens to anyone else but you’ll get no backtalk here, that’s a promise.”

Lia fought a wince at the casual way Harding in one breath dismissed the Dalish wanting to be involved in world events, and then saying that there’d be no disrespect from the scouts about it in the next. Em was not so successful.

“No offense, but can you say again? Is... _odd_ for Dalish to care? Except Dalish persecuted when care? And no backtalk because we’re odd caring type?” Em quirked an eyebrow at the scout, looking deeply unimpressed. 

Harding had the grace to blush. “Oh, Maker, um…” She fumbled, “I really didn’t mean it like that. I am _so_ sorry.” 

“Understandable. We’re all in new situations dealing with people we haven’t had experience talking to before.” Lia said, trying to smooth it over.

“No, no. I know better. My mother would be _so_ disappointed.” Harding shook her head, “You might get some disrespect after all. I never even considered how the Dalish would react before I started dealing with a few of these scouts who all seemed fine, but gosh, that doesn’t sound any better does it?” She chuckled lamely.

Em took back over, “As long as aware, can be on look out. All of us. If have any in particular, please let know names so can address or avoid.” She shrugged, glancing out at the scouts, who were milling about performing various camp-related jobs and beginning to set up for patrols of the area, something Em knew to recognize from Leliana’s scouts at Haven setting up the same way.

“Will do, Lady Blade.” Harding saluted and Em gave her a smile, “Speaking of names, Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service!” Her tone turned cheerful, “I—well, all of us here will do whatever we can to help.”

Varric chuckled and Lia and Em exchanged an amused but exasperated glance as he spoke, “Harding, huh? Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?”

Harding blinked, glancing behind Em and Lia towards Varric and tilting her head to the side in confusion, “I...can’t say I have. Why?” She sounded suspicious and Lia closed her eyes and bit her lip, shaking her head slowly as Em grinned widely, scrunching her face up in silent laughter as Varric delivered the punchline.

“You’d be _Harding_ in—”

“Harding in Hightown,” Lia and Em finished in unison, unable to control themselves.

Harding blinked, clearly still confused. Varric coughed, covering a laugh, “Uh, nevermind.” He said as Cassandra groaned at the joke while Lia and Em broke into giggles.

“It’s...it’s his book,” Lia attempted to explain through her laughter, _“Hard in Hightown_ and cause of your name it’d be—”

Realization dawned over Harding’s features and she let out a small laugh, smiling and shaking her head, “Ohh! That is pretty funny.” She chuckled.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Scout Harding,” Lia said, composing herself, “Please, call me Sahrena if you would.”

“My name is Ashael, pleasure to meet you!” Em chirruped her memorized greeting phrase at Harding, who gave them a smile and a nod.

“Alright then, L—” She cleared her throat, “Sahrena, Ashael. Pleasure to meet you both as well.”

“Anything you can tell about area?” Em asked, gesturing to the landscape behind them. 

Harding’s face fell a little, “Well...the situation is pretty—” she sighed heavily “—dire. As you know from our reports, we came here to secure horses from Redcliffe’s old horsemaster.” Lia nodded in understanding as Harding continued, “I grew up here. People always said that Dennett’s herds were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. But with the Mage–Templar fighting getting worse, we couldn’t get to Dennett. Maker only knows if he’s even still alive.” Harding shook her head, sadly.

“We will definitely try to take a look and make sure we can get to him before we leave, if nothing else,” Lia said, nodding again.

“Is important to us most to help keep safe everyone,” Em explained to Harding, her words tripping out of her mouth as she tried to translate the thought from Elvhen to Trade for the benefit of the scout.

“Thank you,” Harding said, earnestly. The sad expression on her face melted into a bright smile.

“Of course. Has there been any update on the situation at the Crossroads? Our last reports mentioned the fighting had reached there, and since that’s where Mother Giselle is…” Lia trailed off.

Harding nodded, “A bit of an update, yeah. Our latest reports are showing increased activity that way. The war seems to be spreading there too, like we mentioned. Corporal Vale and our men are doing what they can to help protect the people, but I don’t know how long they’ll be able to hold out.” Harding looked genuinely concerned, which caused Lia’s stomach to drop uncomfortably, settling like a stone somewhere near her ankles. “From what I understand, Mother Giselle _was_ still out that way helping the refugees and the wounded.”

"About how long would you estimate the trip from here to the Crossroads takes?" Lia and Em had hoped to rest before continuing on, but the situation sounded a lot more urgent as Harding explained it to them, and if they could get out there and help sooner, well, that was all the better.

"It's about an hour downhill, on foot. We've managed to keep the way clear between here and there, so you shouldn't run into any problems." Harding gestured as she spoke, indicating the path away from the camp and the direction to the Crossroads respectively. She pulled out a map and passed it to Lia.

Lia glanced at it, then tapped Em’s shoulder to bring her attention from the landscape down to the map. It was more detailed than the maps they’d seen back in Haven and even a quick glance showed prominent landmarks and features indicated by careful sketches and tiny but distinct handwriting labeled locations and places of note. The map was actually drawn onto a sturdy, waterproofed silk and backed with thick paper to create stiffness. The ink was dark and somehow didn’t bleed on the fibers, but was also protected by the waterproofing so that it wouldn’t smudge or run if it got wet. It almost looked like it had been woodcut and pressed onto the fabric, but the tiny handwriting was so neat that it was almost assuredly written onto the map rather than done via woodcutting. 

“«Damn that’s a good looking map,»” Em breathed out with a soft almost-whistle.

“«Better than the ones we got back home, for sure,»” Lia agreed. They both had a pretty good memory of the Hinterlands from the video game—they ought to have with all the hours they ended up spending there each playthrough—and it seemed based on their observations of the nearby landscape and the map in front of them that the actual landscape was pretty close to what the game had depicted, but it was still nice to have actually accurate maps to work off of.

“This is a great map,” Lia looked up at Harding, who was trying to watch them without looking like she was watching, “Are there others? I’d like to take one with us.”

“Oh! That one’s yours. There’s others of course, but that one was made for– I mean, that’s yours. To keep.” Harding said, laughing a little nervously. Lia’s brow creased in bemusement but she nodded.

“Excellent, thank you.” She said with a smile.

“Nothing of it. You really like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very detailed. Is this silk?”

“Yeah my moth...er…” Harding trailed off with a cough.

“Oh! Your mother made it?” Lia asked.

“No, I mean she helped. She always liked that silk. She had extra and my father thought it would be perfect for a good, long-lasting map of the Hinterlands and then when he heard the Inquisition was coming and it was going to be you both, well…” She trailed off, beginning to wring her hands a little anxiously.

“Wow! That’s...wow.” Lia breathed, “It’s gorgeous and honestly I’ve never seen a better map.” She didn’t even need to check to know it was probably the most accurate map of the area, too.

“I’ll let him know. He’ll be so pleased!” Harding beamed at the two elves, who grinned back.

With their clear approval of the map acquired, Harding left them to study the area and plan their path better. Lia and Em traced the route from the camp to the Crossroads. Em shaded her eyes with her hands as she looked out towards their destination. An hour at a brisk walking pace worked out to about three miles, which matched the scale on the map. They could make it there and hopefully handle the situation before nightfall, though it would leave them pretty exhausted. She thought maybe if she focused she could see flashes of spells, even from this distance—probably just her imagination, but it didn’t stop the shiver climbing up her spine as she thought about the possibility. They should get going soon.

“Could be worse,” Em sighed, muttering under her breath, “Elana ea iovrola.”

Lia gave an aborted snort of laughter from beside her and Em grinned in response. They continued to consider their options for a few minutes more before Cassandra approached them.

"We should leave soon, my L– Sahrena," She said, quickly correcting herself. Lia smiled, glad that even though the transition was, in her opinion, painfully slow, Cassandra was still making an effort. It was only fair that she was allowed to slip up from time to time, considering how long it had taken Lia to stop accidentally calling her "Cass."

"You're right. Let's drop off what we can spare to leave, and we'll head out." Lia nodded, passing her gaze over the rest of the camp, the scouts performing shift changes for patrols and taking in any injured to what appeared to be medic stations where potions and poultices were applied. The mid-afternoon light gave everything an almost too-bright haze in the chilly mountain air. The cold was exacerbated by the wind coming down off the mountains themselves, cutting through the layers they wore.

Varric was heading over to where their things had been unloaded off the horses to start sorting through the supplies for battle. The rest of the group followed suit, Lia heading to her pack to unload anything she wouldn’t need until tonight, leaving it all with the tents and other things they’d come back for in the evening. Cloaks were shucked off, packs redistributed to better accommodate what they might need, and weapons were strapped on. A hush fell over the camp as the scouts who were heading out into the field left, those that stayed behind fidgeting and trying their best to seem busy when really there was nothing to do but sit and wait. Em and Lia passed glances back and forth, anxiety ramping up slowly as the anticipation of what was ahead of them grew bigger and bigger.

Once everyone was ready to move, the five headed down the hillside path, following the worn down roadway towards the direction of the Crossroads. 

The journey was a little more subdued than their long trek from Haven. The exhaustion of travelling for several days straight—coupled with the knowledge of what they were heading towards—killed most of their good spirits. As they worked their way through the canyon-like cliff sides that grew steadily above them as they descended, they could hear echoes of the fighting ahead. Spells that shattered the landscape cracked like thunder, and the clash of steel swords and armor clanged like broken church bells.

As they approached, the sounds of fighting became more solid around them, losing the echoing quality as the sound bounced less off of the rocks around them. Grim looks were exchanged among themselves as weapons were unsheathed to prepare in case of an ambush or stumbling into fighting before they reached the main battlefield.

Em sank into a low crouch, prowling along the cliff wall beside them to stay out of the line of sight of anyone coming around the corner. As she approached a bush, another figure came up, also crouching, and with an arrow nocked in their bow, though they did not have it drawn.

They both stopped, blinking at one another, taking the others’ features in. The figure was slim under their light armor, light skin shaded by the hood covering their head, and their face bare. Almond-shaped eyes were dark, and slightly larger in proportion to the rest of their face than Em was anticipating. Something inside her immediately recognized this person as another elf, though clearly not Dalish.

“Ah! You’re the Lady Blade,” The scout whispered in surprise, “Sister Nightingale’s letter told us to look out for you—I’m Ritts. With the Inquisition.” She explained, and Em searched her brain for why she recognized that name. Maybe she’d known someone in school. Whatever the reason she recognized this scout’s name, she pushed it off to the side.

“Have others with me,” Em explained, softly. Ritts nodded.

“I’d hoped so. Divinely ordained you might be but one extra person on the field isn’t going to do a lot out there,” Her tone was grim as her face settled into a frown. Em’s face reflected it, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Not wrong.” She muttered, darkly, “Come—others this way.” She waved Ritts to follow her as she made her way back to the group. 

Lia and Cassandra startled as Em appeared, and she shushed them gently, introducing Ritts who updated them on the situation, “The Mages and Templars have moved in on the Crossroads properly. We’ve been doing our best to keep them to the edges but it’s difficult because they’re coming at us from two sides—Mages from the east and Templars from the west.” The scout explained quickly.

Em and Lia exchanged a glance—not terribly different from how things went in the game, then. At least this was predictable. 

"‹‹You, Solas, and Varric keep the Mages back. I don't want you and Solas going up against the Templars if we can help it. I've read descriptions of what their abilities against Mages feels like,››" Em muttered to Lia quickly with a pointed look, "‹‹And if what I've read is accurate at all, I'd rather y'all not go through that, if we can help it.››" She adjusted her grip on her daggers, shifting her shoulders uncomfortably. 

Lia nodded, holding her staff in a two-handed grip and leaning on it a little as she tried to push away the anxiety that had been clawing its way through her chest since they’d gotten the breakdown from Harding back at the camp nearly an hour ago. She twisted her grip a little, feeling the leather that wound around the enchanted wood. Most of her anxiety was actually centered on the fact that she hadn’t gotten a chance to practice with the new weapon before leaving. Outside of a few very casual, sometimes completely instinctive, uses of magic unaided by a staff in her day to day life, she really hadn’t worked very hard to figure out what, exactly, her magic was capable of. There had been a few training sessions with the old, spiked staff she’d acquired heading to the Temple, but those were fraught with her self-consciousness as she was scrutinized as one of only a few mages in the village and also the _Herald of **fucking** Andraste._

With a sigh, Lia shook herself out of her musing and looked to see whether the rest of the group was ready to go. A quick headcount had her missing one _very_ important person. Lia’s heart rate picked up to a rabbiting speed as she realized she couldn’t see where Em had gotten off to. She’d been _right there—_ where could she have gone?

As Lia frantically looked around for Em, trying very hard not to draw too much attention to it all, or cause a scene as they needed to stay stealthy on the approach, Varric nudged her gently with his elbow. His hands were deftly maneuvering over Bianca’s mechanics to make sure she was ready to go for the fight, but his gaze caught Lia’s and he gestured over to the cliffside with his head, giving Lia a reassuring smile.

Lia followed his gesture to a patch of shadows near the bushes Em had come out from with Scout Ritts, right before the narrow canyon they stood in opened to the tiny collection of buildings that made up the Crossroads. In those shadows was a weird...disturbance. Lia’s eyes didn’t want to focus on it correctly, her gaze sliding off into empty space. But if she concentrated, looking just right at those shadows…

There, crouching silently, eyes scanning the open ground ahead and ears twitching to hear things around them, was Em. Her dark colored leather jacket seemed to help her blend in with her surroundings—better than Lia could have ever anticipated. It was like Em disappeared into the space she occupied. In fact, if Lia hadn’t known any better, she would have suspected magic at work hiding her friend.

Em, for her part, was oblivious to her invisibility. She’d wanted to get a better look at the battlefield and, as she always did when she wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible, started chanting “Don’t notice me, don’t notice me, you don’t want to notice me” over and over again in her mind as she crept out towards the open. 

The rest of Em’s attention was trained on the apparently calm emptiness of what _should_ have been a bustling epicenter of trade and community for the wider rural area. Instead it was eerily quiet, and the only reason she was able to hear the whispers and quiet talking from across the way where the other groups were set up, regrouping for the next wave, was because of the elf ears she had. 

The six made their way into the open, Ritts trailing after Em and the others following Ritts. They carefully stepped away from the cover of shadows and shrubbery, closer and closer to the open. Lia’s palms were sweating in her fingerless gloves around her staff, and she clenched her hands around the sturdy wood, swallowing as her eyes darted around for danger, her entire attention on every movement and sound that might indicate a potential threat or the beginning of the next wave of fighting.

Em stilled in the middle of the intersection of the different roads, her breath bated and her heart hammering away inside of her chest. Ritts and the others had held back, staying in the underbrush. All except Cassandra, who stepped out into the open alert and ready for the danger of doing so.

As Cassandra’s boot hit the packed dirt of the road it was like a switch flipped, the unnatural stillness of the square erupting into action. Templars and Mages came down on all sides—there were no pre-programmed waves of enemies, just thirty or so each with the Inquisition scouts and Lia and Em’s party caught in the middle. 

Lia immediately threw out a barrier spell—she didn’t remember having ever done one before, but it came to her like cooling her tea. She watched as it settled over the Inquisition scouts and Em. Solas’ magic settled over her and the others she hadn’t been able to get covered by her spell.

Lia flourished her staff easily over her head, a simple movement, brimming with power as she called the magical energy up through from the Fade, past the Veil, into her blood and directed it through her staff. Her body thrummed like a plucked string on an instrument and she felt like a live-wire, electricity pouring from the top of her staff and focused on the closest mage. She’d never felt more alive in her _life_ — _she’d never felt more alive than the first time she’d used magic with the Keeper, her body alight with the energy of a summer storm, bright and sharp and warm. Later Em would tell her that her eyes had gone pale like rushing river water, blue and white and zinging with the electricity she channelled through her being._

Oh, so _this_ was what a staff made specifically for a particular mage was supposed to feel like.

The lightning that exploded from Lia’s staff shot into her targets, stunning them with electricity. Once they were immobilized temporarily, the scouts moved in to take over further incapacitating them. At least, incapacitation was what Lia told herself they were doing. 

This was different from fighting on the mountainside, demons falling from the sky and a desperate push to close the hole in the Veil before the tear opened so wide that the world was swallowed whole. These were _people._ They had aspirations, thoughts, ambitions and goals. They weren’t computer-generated enemies to gain experience points, not collections of pixels on a screen or data in code on a server. They were solid when they were hit, and fell when magic and weapons wounded them enough. There was a coppery scent permeating the cold mountain air and Lia swallowed bile mid-casting as she realized it was the scent of blood. 

The Mages, at least, seemed more reactionary than anything, focusing more on defensive tactics. They only used offensive magic when it would keep more violence from coming their way. 

It was the Templars that worried Lia the most. Em had made a good point when she’d mentioned their ability to dampen magical energies in an area. Lia imagined it functioned like a dispel might—not that she’d had the chance to either practice or experience dispelling magic, and she certainly wasn’t looking to feel that sort of effect any time soon. Using magic felt entirely natural and she often didn’t even notice that she’d done anything at all until Em pointed it out or Lia noticed the effects of it on her own. It was easy, even, to forget that she had once not had this sort of magic—and at this point Lia couldn’t imagine not feeling it coursing through her veins.

Certainly mid-fight would be the _worst_ time to lose the feeling of magic she could sense thrumming through her body, since she couldn’t tell what was the magic and what was the rest of it all. Adrenaline, fear, a weird surge of excitement and almost like a manic glee filled her full to brimming and she tried to force herself to calm down as she cast her spells and fought off attackers who managed to get in close. The mages had gained the support of sellswords who handled the melee combat and they’d somehow snuck in past the defenses of the Inquisition’s melee support, causing Lia to have to take breaks from her offensive casting to perform barrier spells and smack her staff into those who came within bonking-range. She mostly focused on just getting them back and off of her, not wanting to do actual harm to anyone—though she knew even a casual head injury could be fatal if not treated properly and she really hoped she wasn’t doing anything more than concussing or bruising while others handled the actual incapacitating.

Meanwhile, Em worked her way through her own batch of enemies as she fought past the disconnect she was beginning to feel between her mind and her body. Movements ingrained into her muscles and honed to her own style through training kept her mobile through the fray, slashing and stabbing in what would look like calculated and precise motions, though she was only aware of her own thoughts to just _keep moving, keep moving, don’t stop or it’ll be you next, just keep going._ She, too, tried to avoid fatally injuring her opponents, but it was proving harder to do than she had anticipated—and Em had anticipated it being pretty difficult.

The longer the fight went on, the more she felt herself dissociating not just from her body and it’s movements, but from the fight itself. It took everything in her to focus on simply making sure no one got close enough to hurt her or the others—and taking out those that did get too close to the ranged fighters. Lia, Varric, and Solas were able to fend off the melee attacks of those who got in close, which was good, but Em still would rather not have them in that position at all.

“Ashael! Behind!” She heard called over the din—she couldn’t remember what the second word meant and she fought the urge to stop moving entirely to think about it. Instead, she turned the force of a sword swing around the back of a Templar—the same move she liked to employ against Meg during their sparring sessions. _Just like dancing._

As she pulled the Templar’s arm behind them, a sword grazed her arm, shooting past her and straight into the Templar she now had in front of her, the blow coming from behind where she’d been standing. The Templar she held stiffened in pain before collapsing as blood flowed freely from the wound. The other attacker—another Templar, probably the wounded’s friend, based on the odds—looked shocked from under his bucket helm. Wide eyes met Em’s and Em couldn’t breathe. The world spun around her as the battle carried on, but she heard nothing but a ringing in her ears and the Templar’s shaking voice as he dropped to his knees to hold his friend, “I didn’t mean to…”

Em dropped the wounded Templar like a potato out of the oven she’d grabbed with her bare hands. There was...there was a lot of blood. Both were covered in it. She was covered in it. The Templar who had stabbed his friend paid her no more mind and the wounded Templar...well…

He’d stopped moving. The blood was oozing sluggishly now. So much blood. 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry Kenrick. I’m so, so sorry.” Em could no longer hear the rest of the battle around her, only the Templar consoling his friend in his last moments. 

A spell shot over Em’s shoulder—she could feel the flames lick the side of her face and smelled the singed hairs as they burned—hitting the two Templars and exploding. She barely got away from them both in time as the explosive blast radiated out from the pair. She turned towards the source of the spell—a mage fighting against an Inquisition soldier, not even paying attention to Em and the Templars. Just an accident.

An accident.

Em was pretty sure she was shaking as she stumbled from the burning Templars, the one screaming in pain as they were immolated. The fighting continued around her, but it was slowing down—the majority of the Templars and Mages either incapacitated or dead. Those remaining were being whittled down or were retreating. She couldn’t feel her feet. Or her face. Or her anything, really. 

“Kitten? Are you alright?” A familiar voice, Varric. He was talking to her, calling her that name again. She wondered what it meant. Had he asked her a question? Her brain wouldn’t translate the words into things that made sense, “Shit, kid. Are you hurt?” She was stopped from walking—where had she been heading? She was shaking.

Why was she shaking?

“Fuck that’s a lot of blood, but it doesn’t look like yours. I think you’ll be alright. Let’s get you sitting down, okay?” A steady grip on her elbow, moving to a firm hand on her lower back, leading her somewhere. It was Varric, so it was probably safe. Her ears were ringing—they always rang but also...not here they didn’t. Was it quiet now or was it so loud it felt quiet? She was shaking.

“Okay, Kitten, let’s get you settled down. You didn’t happen to bring a waterskin with you, did you? Ah, never mind let me grab mine.” Em’s gaze was focused solely on her hands. Pale fingers peeked out from the leather gloves. There was blood on her hands. 

_Out, out, damn spot._

She was shaking.

Why was she shaking?

“Okay, here we go, Kitten. Let me have your hands,” Varric’s wide hands engulfed her own, wrapping her fingers around a full waterskin. Em held it carefully as Varric guided her to drink. It had a weird flavor, but that was normal now. Water tasted weird when you didn’t filter it, after all. And of course there wasn’t a filter, this was Thedas. Thedas didn’t have filters for water. Especially not in Ferelden. 

Did the Qunari have water filters? She was shaking.

“That’s it. Slowly now, alright. You did good out there, kid. Easy does it.” As she lowered the waterskin from her lips, Varric guided it closer to him so he could place the lid back on, but let her continue holding it. She still didn’t understand what he was saying and her ears were still ringing. She was shaking.

But it was less now.

“Fuck, I guess we didn’t really think about this, did we?” Varric seemed like he was talking to himself now, as Em focused a little farther away than the waterskin, glancing up at Varric who looked perturbed. He wasn’t covered in blood, though, so that was good. Sweaty, kind of dirty, but unharmed. That had been the goal.

“Mahn ea Lia?” She asked, softly.

“What was that?” Varric turned to Em, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Em tried to steady herself, “Lia? Mahn ea...” She fought for a second to try and remember the words, “Where…Sahrena?”

“She’s alright, Kitten. She’s over there,” Varric pointed towards a small knot of Inquisition scouts and just as he said, there was Lia. She was leaning on her staff, some of her hair had fallen out of her bun and was loose and hanging around her face. She looked disheveled, tired—sweaty and dirty like Varric, but also uninjured.

Lia was fine. Em wasn’t shaking anymore, but she still felt like she was a little to the left of herself.

“Sahrena?” Varric called over the ringing in Em’s ears. Maybe he could hear it too. Or maybe he was just trying to be heard over the distance between Em and Lia. That...that was a lot more likely, Em decided as Lia turned towards the sound of Varric’s voice, looking over at the two of them. Her face was pinched and tense, but as she noticed Em it relaxed a little. She excused herself from the scouts and made her way to where Em and Varric sat.

“What’s up?” Lia asked, as she took in Em, hunched over a waterskin and looking incredibly shaken. She couldn’t help but try to catalog if her friend had been injured and, despite the blood all over Em’s front, it didn’t appear she had been.

“She’s a bit shaken up and asked for you.” Varric said, softly, “She’s not really responding to me a whole lot, so I figured it might help if she had you here instead.”

Lia nodded, that definitely made sense, “I’ve got her. Thank you, Varric.” She said with a small smile, “Are you alright?”

Varric let out a strained laugh, “Nights in Kirkwall were worse, I’m fine. You take care of the kitten, I’ll be pestering our dear Seeker.” He tapped two fingers to his brow and flung them away in a loose salute with a crooked smile. She rolled her eyes fondly.

“Play nice, I need both of you in one piece or I think Leliana and Josephine will kill me.” Lia waved him away with a grin before turning back to her friend, “«Hey, Varric said you wanted to see me?»”

Em sighed, visibly deflating like she’d been holding herself taut, “«Templar died.»” Was all she said. Lia sucked in a breath through her teeth. That...wasn’t good. Before she could respond, Em continued, “«It was an accident. Another Templar was behind me, I moved out of the way of the sword, and it hit the Templar I was fighting. It...I don’t know if he was dead before the mage’s spell hit them both. I only heard one person screaming.»”

“Oh, _Em.”_ Lia dropped to her knees beside Em.

Em huffed—it might have been interpreted as a laugh, but Lia was pretty sure it wasn’t, “«That was an accident too. Was just...a lot.»”

“«No shit. Fuck I am so sorry, Em. I know we were trying to keep as many people alive as possible.»”

“«You okay?»” Em said, abruptly, stalling Lia’s thought.

“«I’m fine. Magic is really strong, it felt _fucking crazy._ But everyone is safe—we didn’t lose anyone, but there were a few injuries on our side. The Templars and Mages we were able to save are being rounded up and kept separate from one another for questioning. I’ve tried to emphasize how much we want to de-escalate before we resort to neutralizing things, but I’m not as good with speaking to large groups so I’m leaving it to Cassandra to remember what we wanted to try and do.»” That got a more genuine huff of laughter from Em and the tight thing that had settled in Lia’s chest unwound a little at the sound.

“Hmm, not great but is okay.” Em murmured, “«Glad everyone’s alright though. Glad it worked.»”

“Me too.” Lia hummed, “We need to figure out where Mother Giselle is and talk to her if we can. I’d like to try and get back to the camp with Harding before dark, but it’s looking like we might be staying here if we can’t talk to Giselle in time.”

Em shrugged, “Here is fine. Not best but one night under stars is not bad.”

“Looks like someone is feeling better,” Varric’s voice came from behind Lia and she turned a little to watch him approach. The swagger was probably unnecessary, but it did help lighten the mood around the post-battle site. She wondered, distantly, if that was on purpose.

“Yes, is better. Thank you, Varric.” Em smiled, handing the waterskin to the dwarf as he approached the two, “Glad you is okay.”

“Yeah, I’m good, Kitten.” Em huffed another breath through her nose like a laugh but still wasn’t quite smiling. “I’ve been sent to tell you that a certain cleric is ready to speak with you. She’s up where most of the wounded are being treated.” Varric gestured towards the elevated area where the injured were being taken—some hobbling over on their own power, some being carried between two others.

Lia winced. “Excellent,” She said, sounding like it was anything but. “We’ll head over there as soon as Ashael is ready.” 

Em nodded, standing creakily. “Is ready,” She said, her voice still muted but less hollow than it had been when Lia had first shown up, “Lets go.”

Lia got up from her knees, creaking a little as she did so. Weariness was already settling into her muscles from the fight and she was pretty sure she'd overextended her magic a couple of times, but overall she didn't feel too bad physically. 

They headed across the intersecting lanes, nodding at a pair of scouts who were unfurling a quickly made banner indicating the presence of the Inquisition in the area. Then they made their way up the stairs to the comparatively big hut. Bigger in floor space than most of the structures in Haven anyway, even if not nearly as tall.

A collection of cots and bedrolls had been assembled around the building, and every single one was occupied. Several people lay on bare ground in the absence of bedding, though many still stood around the area nursing more minor wounds. Lia recognized a few of the mages from the battlefield—both Inquisition-allied and those that had just surrendered willingly. Others were unfamiliar to her, but clearly had been there a while based on the familiarity with the patients and civilians.

One figure stood out among the others, despite their kneeling on the ground next to a cot with a wounded soldier on it—based on the armor of the soldier, possibly one of the Inquisition's men, though it was difficult to tell for sure. The kneeling figure was dressed in nearly pure white and bright red with a large structured hood on her head. That would be Mother Giselle, then.

The man on the cot was speaking loudly, despite the pain evident in his voice and posture and facial expression. He was clearly distressed as Mother Giselle tried to calm him down and reassure him, "There are mages here who can heal your wounds. Lie still."

The man was not to be reassured, however, as he nearly began to struggle harder, “Don’t...let them touch me, Mother! Their magic is—”

“Turned to noble purpose, their magic is surely no more evil than your blade.”

“But…”

“Hush, dear boy. Allow them to ease your suffering.” The soldier lay back at a gentle hand on his shoulder, having exhausted himself.

Lia and Em waited for the lull in conversation before Lia addressed the woman, "We were told a Mother Giselle wished to speak with us?" She began, tentatively. 

"You were told correctly," Giselle said, standing slowly to allow one of the mages to tend to the man on the cot, "If, of course, you are the Herald of Andraste and the Blade of the Maker."

Lia huffed a sigh, "That's what they're calling us anyway, but we're sent from no god—yours or ours." She said, pointedly. Em nodded beside her.

"My name is Ashael, and this is Sahrena," Em said, gesturing between them as she spoke, the practiced phrasing rolling off her tongue easily, "We want to help, but are not of Maker and Andraste." She stumbled through the words as she tried to make her brain work again. Em still felt jittery under her skin, and exhaustion weighed on her shoulders like a sack of bricks. But she’d put herself through worse—at least her only audience was an older woman from the church, er...Chantry, and her best friend.

Mother Giselle smiled kindly, “I have learned not to question why Fate works the way it does.” She gestured onwards and began walking towards the direction Lia and Em had come from, “I do not presume to know the Maker’s intentions—for any of us. But I did not ask you here to debate with me.”

“«Oh thank _fuck_ for that.»” Em muttered under her breath as they turned to walk beside Mother Giselle as she continued.

Em’s exclamation earned her a muffled giggle from Lia and a bemused glance from the clergywoman. “I know of the Chantry’s denouncement and I am familiar with those behind it. I won’t lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine,” Giselle informed them, as Lia composed herself again. 

“Unsurprising and frankly what I figured the majority were up to,” Lia responded. 

Giselle nodded, turning her soft smile to Lia now. “Indeed. There are others, however, who are simply terrified. So many good people, senselessly taken from us.” All three women lapsed into a brief silence as they contemplated the situation.

“Doesn’t excuse.” Em finally said, breaking their silence, “They make things harder. Can be unified force against big hole in sky, or can be broken and scattered and fall apart under it.” She sighed.

“I agree,” Lia spoke softly, “It was a tragic loss and I’m very sorry that it’s happened, but falling back on the structure of outdated organizations is not going to help right now because there _is_ no structure to fall back on. The decision to find a new Divine will take time. Time we don’t have.” She explained, her arms moving to emphasize her point a little.

Mother Giselle nodded, “They don’t know that. This is my point. With no Divine, we are each left to our own conscience—and mine tells me this: Go to them. Convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe.”

“It won’t _work_.” Em said, frustrated and forgetting herself. She appreciated Giselle’s faith in her fellow Chantry leaders but after a certain point it was stupid to assume they would turn.

“Em.” Lia hissed, under her breath, “We can’t _know_ that.” She said, with a pointed look on her face.

“But we can. Is same everywhere.” Em said, “People no listen for when sense is spoken. Hole in sky is priority but no one see that. See only little problems.” She gestured to the sky in exasperation. “«We know it won’t work, why are we even—»”

“Em, sathan.” Lia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing the area gently, “«Not _now.»”_

“«Yes now! This is stupid. We know how this will go—»”

“If I may?” Mother Giselle interrupted gently, “I do not know what you are talking about, but it seems this is causing great tension between you two. I apologize for having caused strife regarding this situation, but you needn’t convince them all, you just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you’ll receive the time you need.”

“«Great. Smaller pieces.»” Em groused, throwing her hands up in the air with a sigh, _“Merde,_ ça craint.”

Giselle and Lia blinked at Em as she stormed away.

“Did she just—”

“I was not aware your friend spoke—” The two looked at one another as they spoke at the same time.

“You know what, we’ll deal with that some other time.” Lia said, shaking her head and turning back to face Mother Giselle properly, “We’ll try the Clerics. I mean, what other options do we really have?” She sighed, her shoulders drooping despite her hands being placed on her hips in an attempt at a confident pose.

“I honestly don’t know if you’ve been touched by Fate or sent to help us, but I _hope_ . Hope is what we need now.” Giselle said, her soft voice emphatic in her conviction, “The people will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us or destroy us.” She paused for a moment, thoughtful, before continuing, “I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana with the names of those in the Chantry who will be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do _whatever_ I can.” 

“I...Thank you, I guess.” Lia said, shrugging a little and brushing her dishevelled hair out of her face, “There’s a camp up the way a little—get in touch with Scout Harding up there and let her know you’re heading up to Haven. We’ll be following in about a week or so.” She scrubbed the back of her neck tiredly. _Fuck_ this had been a long day.

“I will do so, though I will be staying to help here first. There are many wounded by the rebellion, and I would see that they are cared for before I leave them.”

Lia nodded, “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to go find Ashael. Thank you again, Mother Giselle.”

“No, thank _you,_ Herald of Andraste.”

Before Lia could even kind of protest, Mother Giselle was already wandering off. She huffed a sigh, “«Creators deliver me from kindly Chantry Mothers...»”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, Direct from Project Elvhen:
> 
> Na i’tel’gon vanadirthavean! - You worthless magpie! (meant to be a good-natured insult, specific to Clan Lavellan in this case)  
> Da’banaean - Little black bird (Em's very good at naming things)  
> Ahnsul? Aran elana tel temem tath. - Why? We have not faltered yet  
> Min ea tel vana! - This is not funny!  
> Ra’ea thanun, shan’ishan, y eaem tamahn sulrahn’el na nuvenem gana? - That's the point, old man, or was there something more you wanted to contribute?  
> da’lan - little one(fem)/child (I use it to mean little girl specifically here)  
> Na nuvena dara? Na nuvena pana? San, lasaran pana! - You wanna go? You want to have this fight? Okay, let's fight!  
> Elana ea iovrola. - Could be bears.  
> Mahn ea Lia? - Where is Lia?
> 
> Bonus Orlesian courtesy of Google Translate and my very very basic knowledge of French:  
> Merde, ça craint. - Shit, this sucks.


	8. At Least It’s Not Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, side quests. Those are fun!
> 
> ...  
> right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was a little intense, so let's start this one off with some pure fluff, yeah? 
> 
> Also...one day I will learn how to write characters who *aren't* just about to fall asleep from exhaustion. One day.
> 
> Text within the « and » is Elvhen, using translations from Project Elvhen. Translations of all Elvhen located in the notes at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Warning in this one: I mention vomiting - it's pretty clearly telegraphed imo and I tried not to describe it too detailed but if that's something that bothers you, it's shortly after the bandits are dealt with and you can pick up when Em is the POV again (paragraph that begins "As Lia was composing herself, Em[...]").

_There is no way we are making it back to the Inquisition camp where Harding is by nightfall,_ Lia determined, glaring up at the sky as it slowly turned from blue to orange to dusky purple over their heads. The sun had dipped below the cliffs ages ago and lanterns and fire pits had been lit all around the Crossroads already. She was glad Em had told her they’d already sent a scout to the campsite for blankets as she watched the refugees huddle together for warmth as the temperature dropped quickly.

Well... _shit._

“G’on?” Em’s voice came from over Lia’s shoulder. They were both still completely run down from the battle earlier, but hadn’t been able to stop moving since they’d started.

“Vin.” Lia sighed, “«Just had kind of hoped to get back to Harding’s camp. Didn’t really want to spend the night outside.»”

“«’S a good thing you won’t have to then.»” Em clapped her on the shoulder, “«Scout we sent off earlier came back with blankets, reinforcements—and the tents.»”

“Oh thank fucking Sylaise for that.” Lia huffed, allowing herself to droop a little, “Wait— «Does everyone have somewhere covered to sleep tonight?»”

“«Yeah, we handled that already. Bell’s already got it covered—she’s a delight, you should meet her when you get a chance.»” Em said, gently guiding Lia to walk with her and she went without a fight. Not that she really would have fought in the first place, but it was definitely not a problem to go wherever Em led at this point, “«There’s a hunter in the village—you know, the ram-meat guy? He ‘n Varric did some work out in the hills together and have got some pretty good stew on. Well, I say pretty good—it’s stew made by a Fereldan and frankly I’m considering it dubious food at best.»” Em was chattering on, explaining what Lia had been missing while dealing with Corporal Vale’s Requisitions officer, talking to Whittle about what needed to happen in the area to make sure people were safe and comfortable, being chased down by a very frantic man who had a sick wife and needed someone to fetch his son from some cult in the hills—and all the quest lines were starting to run together in Lia’s head. She needed a pad of paper to keep track, probably.

Maybe she could ask Varric where he got his. Or see if he had one to spare.

Lia barely registered being sat down in front of a small campfire similar to the ones she’d been sat at every night for their entire journey. A wooden bowl that was warm from the hot stew inside of it was placed in her hands and she suddenly realized how cold she was getting. She shivered a little and hunched over the steaming food, breathing in the scent of roasted meat and root vegetables. 

A spoon was given to Lia and she thanked the person automatically before mechanically spooning the food from the bowl into her mouth. _Fuck_ but she was tired. She barely registered the others around her eating and talking as well—and only as much as she did because someone was sitting right next to her and leaning on her lightly, though the pressure grew as the meal went on. It wasn't until her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl and came up empty that she stopped and blinked, realizing she didn’t actually remember eating any of it.

It was Em who was sitting beside her and rather than Em being the one leaning further into Lia, it was actually Lia who was listing slowly into Em, her blinking becoming slower and slower.

“Think it’s time for you to get to bed, _my lady,”_ Varric chuckled, putting his own bowl to the side as Em reached for it.

“I take, give me.” Em made a grabbing motion with her hand and Varric picked his bowl back up, placing it in Em’s hand so she could stack it with her own before she grabbed Lia’s bowl and spoon gently from her hand. “You get her to tent?” Em hummed, gently readjusting Lia on her shoulder. Lia found she couldn’t quite pick herself up off of her friend despite clearly needing to. She closed her eyes to blink and they briefly refused to open as Em and Varric continued their conversation.

“Yeah, I got her, Kitten. You should get to bed too,” A shifting motion, Em was doing something with her arm.

“Is fine. Am no tire yet,” A yawn sounded, belying Em’s words. It ended on a small whining yip like a dog or a cat might.

“You continue to earn your nickname,” Lia could barely hear Varric mutter and it made her smile a little. She wanted to open her eyes, but she couldn’t quite make it happen. There was some shuffling and Lia felt herself lifted off of Em’s shoulder. She grunted in protest, but couldn’t quite make her body move.

“I got her, Kitten. You go do...whatever it is you’re doing to put off going to sleep.” Varric grumbled and Lia felt a heavy arm wrap around her shoulders. She leaned in and snuggled gently against the warmth—no longer entirely awake and yet not quite completely asleep; she couldn’t feel the embarrassment the movement would have normally provoked in her, otherwise it would have kept her from completing the action.

The arm around her shoulders tightened a little reflexively, but stayed steady as Em responded, “Will do rounds of talk to people. Then make sure all is safe. Then maybe sleep. Maybe also no sleep.” There was the sound of shifting leather as she shrugged, “Is whatever. Will check on Sahrena in a little while.”

“Alright, fine. Just, try to get some sleep anyway, will ya? You did enough of this shit while she was out the first time. Second. Whatever.”

“Yeah yeah, and will do again, probably. And hate self in morning for doing. Is no more young can stay up all night but sometimes is like to try.” Em’s voice was fading as her boots crunched against the gravel and leaves and dry grass as she walked away.

Varric sighed, adjusting his hold on Lia a little, “Come on, Starlight. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” Lia hummed softly, tucking her head into Varric’s shoulder. His hair tickled her nose and she huffed, twisting away from it. Itchy.

She felt herself be lifted up, her back and shoulders still cradled as another sturdy arm shifted under her knees. As she felt her weight held by someone else entirely, she let that feeling of weightlessness carry her off into the Fade and into dreams of magic thrumming through her veins, her friends surrounding her, and a feeling of comfort and love and being cared for she hadn’t felt since she was a small child.

* * *

Em had eventually ended up coming to bed fairly late in the evening, joining Lia in the tent—though her sleep was a bit more restless and plagued by nightmares than Lia’s was. She would wake up with the scent of burnt flesh in her nose and the sound of the Templar’s screams in her ears, despite not really having fallen asleep yet, before attempting the endeavor again.

If anyone noticed the dark circles under her eyes the next morning, they either didn’t mention it where she could hear them or they mentioned it in a language she didn’t understand yet and that was _fine._

From the Crossroads, they traversed their way back to the first established Inquisition camp. As the refugees had blankets and food already, their plan was to regroup with Harding and focus on what they could do for Vale and his men, as well as the few specific requests from the refugees they’d gotten. Lia and Em wanted to do everything they could to make life easier for the refugees, but they had to keep reminding themselves that there was a lot more to do, and that they were allowed to delegate to the groups actually staying in the area. 

Once back with Harding, they discussed the different things that had been brought to their attention at the Crossroads, working on making a priority list of sorts. Because of the urgency of the request, they headed for Winterwatch Tower in Dwarfson’s Pass first to find Hyndel, the son of one of the villagers who had approached Lia and Em after they’d cleared the Crossroads. 

Not only had Hyndel run off to join a cult—an understandable response, Lia and Em felt, considering the state of the world and the fact that they knew they were unintentionally the figureheads of a cult of their own, which wasn’t ideal but they couldn’t really do anything about it at this point except try to head it off at the pass—but also he was the only person who was able to brew a specific potion that helped his mother with what sounded like asthma attacks or chronic bronchitis. Em was familiar with how quickly bronchitis could go south if left untreated, and she made the case for going as quickly as possible.

Harding pointed them down the road that went practically straight south into the Dwarfson’s Pass area and after they’d gotten their priority list in order, they set off immediately. The late morning sun shone brightly as they traversed the rocky landscape. They’d just passed the intersection with the road to the Crossroads when Cassandra pointed up onto a rocky outcropping where a large metal...globe sat on a pedestal.

“What is that?” Cassandra asked, surprised. Without waiting for the others, the Seeker made her way up to the object. Em glanced furtively in the direction of their destination, not really wanting to waste the time on checking out the Astrarium, but didn’t say anything as the others dutifully followed Cassandra up the hill. 

Upon their cresting of the incline, they found a small, abandoned campsite, complete with books detailing information about the large piece of equipment and its purpose.

“It’s a telescope,” Lia explained.

“A _what?”_ Cassandra asked, as if offended by the very thought of it, though in actuality it was just her natural tone when asking a question about something she didn’t understand or know about.

“Uh...it lets you view stars and planets better. I don’t know that we’d actually be able to see anything right now though,” Lia said, glancing at the Astrarium, “The book here calls it an Astrarium—something to see the stars.” 

“Sounds Tevene,” Varric said.

“I mean, the book _is_ from Tevinter apparently,” Lia said, indicating the introduction in the book, a letter from Magister Pelidanus of the Cordial Order, dated to 5:12 Exalted. “There’s notes in here on each of the different constellations by a sister...Oran Petrarchius.” She stumbled over the name. 

Em wasn’t really paying attention to any of them. If they were going to be distracted by the Astrarium, she was going to play with it. She stood on tiptoe in order to peer down into it. She gasped as she saw inside was the sky as though it were night time and the sun wasn’t obscuring the stars. She peered around at the asterisms and planets before landing on a constellation she recognized. 

Well, her Thedas Instinct recognized it, anyway.

_Hahren gathered the children together under the moonless night sky, “Look carefully, da’lenen—the patterns in the sky show you where you are, and tell stories of our past. They change throughout the year and can guide you home, no matter where you might be. See here,” The older man pointed to a particular set of stars, “This is Dhru’dys’eth: Faith in the chance of safety. Long ago the elves of Arlathan followed these stars as they ran from the Tevinter Imperium, trusting that the Creators would lead them to somewhere safe away from the Shemlen who wished to enslave them and wipe away their history, their stories, their culture.” The Hahren’s voice went soft, as though he was no longer telling the story but living it, “And following those stars led our people to Halamshiral. We believed it would be a safe place for us to live and rebuild, but the Shemlen had no interest in allowing this. The Dales fell and we were left to wander once more. One day those stars will lead us all home again, somewhere safe. It’s said if a hunter is lost, following Dhru’dys’eth will bring them back to their clan once more. They also say that Dhru’dys’eth is one of the few constellations visible in the Beyond, guiding spirits of the departed through the twisting paths. So remember, da’lenen—if ever you are lost, search for Dhru’dys’eth in the sky and the stars will guide you someplace safe.”_

_Later Ashael knew that those were the stories of old men. The stars of Dhru’dys’eth always pointed the same direction, never changing, so they would only lead lost hunters home if they’d happened to travel in the opposite direction._

As Em’s eyes traced the well-worn pathway between the stars, a mechanism inside the telescope began to move, shifting and grating gears against one another. She jumped back as the whole thing aligned, lighting up before casting two beams of light in separate directions. She squeaked as the mechanism clunked back into place, falling out of alignment and going back to its apparently dormant state.

“What the fuck was that?” Varric asked as all attention turned to her.

Em looked at them with startled, wide eyes, “Dhru’dys’eth?” She said, weakly as she gestured to the contraption, “Uh...I fixed it?”

Lia blinked at her as the implications of her choice in words settled in, “Well...I guess that’s one way to interpret the constellation,” She murmured, “I bet those beams of light lead somewhere interesting. We’ll have to keep an eye out to see if we find more of these.” She took out the map and made a notation on a scrap of fabric before attaching it with a wax seal as a patch. 

“Sure, yeah. Maybe let’s go?” Em said, still a little shaken from being startled by the astrarium, and really wanting to make sure they got to Winterwatch Tower before too long. 

They set back out again, continuing their journey south. They went through a narrow pass between two cliffs, leading to an ambush by bandits. They weren’t the bandits’ first victims either, Em noticed, swallowing thickly at the scent of death as their own small group unsheathed their weapons and defended against their attackers.

It was a quick fight, bringing the bandits down with a few well placed glyphs and spells from Lia and Solas while Varric fired into the fray. Cassandra and Em narrowly dodged his bolts as they drew the bandits’ attention from up close. 

They did not incapacitate the bandits.

Em was trembling again as the last man fell, his sword limply dropping to the ground at her feet, her daggers stained with blood from her fatal strike. She cleared her throat shakily, grabbing a loose handkerchief from the ground—it was bloody, covered in mud, but there were clean patches and she wiped her blades off on it, the meticulousness of caring for her weapons helping her focus on something so she could collect herself.

Lia was not doing much better. Her breath hitched in her chest as she stared at the carnage all around them.

“You okay, Sahrena?” Varric asked, his voice soft and tone understanding. He knew she wasn’t okay, but he was giving her the chance to lie about it if she needed to.

She wasn’t sure she could.

“Not really,” She choked out, swallowing around a lump in her throat as bile rose and stuck in her chest. 

“First time’s rough. You both are handling it surprisingly well,” Varric continued in the same soft voice, “No one will think less of you if you need a minute.”

Lia nodded, her head bobbing up and down probably too quickly, “Just...yep. Need a…”

She spun on her heel and dashed to a nearby bush, revulsion and horror compiling together as she emptied her stomach, choking and gasping. A steady hand pressed between her shoulder blades as she coughed and shook, nothing else coming up despite her body’s insistence that she continue vomiting. She glanced up to see Cassandra standing over her, a grim look on her face.

“Do you need anything?” She asked, softly.

Lia took a second to think, pushing some of her hair out of her face. Thankfully none of it had gotten in the way, but sweat still had it sticking to her face and it was a relief to move it. Finally she shook her head, swallowing thickly, “No, I think...I think I’ll be alright,” She replied, her voice hoarse as she spoke. 

Cassandra nodded, “Let me know if that changes. It is...not easy. The first time you must…” She cleared her throat and refused to finish her thought. Lia understood and was rather thankful they didn’t put words to it. She could go through that second round of horror some other time.

Preferably never, but that was entirely unlikely to happen.

As Lia was composing herself, Em had begun examining the bodies of the bandits’ previous victims. Their bodies were relatively fresh, likely having just been killed no more than an hour before their group had stumbled upon the bandits. There were at least two nobles, based on their dress, and several armed guards who apparently had not stood a chance. One of the nobles was a young woman with fair hair. Her eyes were still open when Em walked over to her, and the vacant, cloudy stare caused Em to shudder. They were pale green—Em was reminded of her younger sister whose eyes were frequently the same shade. She wondered if this woman’s eyes had changed color based on what she wore or the lighting or the whim of the stars and planets aligning just right, too. She swallowed as a lump formed in her throat and her sinuses tingled with oncoming tears.

Em sniffled, immediately regretting the decision as all she got was a giant whiff of death in her nose at the action, and coughed. She leaned down and closed the woman’s eyes. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of a piece of parchment and reached for it. Maybe if it had some indication of her family on it, they could send condolences.

_My lady Vellina,_

_I know you’re frightened, but the light in the sky shouldn’t scare you. It’s the eye of the Maker, finally coming back to take the faithful to the Golden City. Leave your father’s servants and come up into the hills, away from the pointless fighting between the templars and mages. Let me introduce you to Speaker Anais. She’ll explain everything, and we’ll be together and happy, waiting for everything to be right in the world._

_Your love,_

_Lord Berand_

Em cursed as she finished reading the letter. Well, at least they were already heading that way.

“What’s wrong, Kitten?” Varric asked, coming up to her as Cassandra helped Lia.

“Letter. She was meeting someone,” Em waved the letter at Varric and tried to keep herself from crying. It was not going well, “Just wanted to be safe with asa’lath…”

After a shaky breath through her mouth to try and center herself, Em shook her head viciously and stood quickly. Varric stepped back as she moved, giving her space as she stalked away from the bodies. She stopped a few paces away, her shoulders tight as she pinched the bridge of her nose and took a few more attempts at calming breaths. Finally she spoke again, “Should...move them. Out of path. Don’t know... _fuck_ «I don’t know what you all do to bury your dead and I want to be respectful!»” She snapped, her voice cracking as she spoke.

“Whoa, okay Kitten. Calm down.” Varric said, his hands up.

“She wishes to treat the dead with respect, but doesn’t know what would be appropriate here,” Solas said, his voice quiet. Em only kind of understood what he was saying but she nodded, agreeing with what she could understand.

“Oh, okay. Alright, well...Not sure here is a great place for a pyre, but moving them out of the road will be a good start.” Varric said, speaking way more calmly than the situation probably called for, but Em appreciated that he was trying, even if it did seem a little patronizing.

“Let’s do.” She said, and turned back to the grisly scene in order to get started.

The inability to tell time and accurately determine how much time had passed sometimes came in handy. Not knowing exactly how long they’d taken to drag the bodies to the side of the road and arrange them into respectful positions—and then mark it on the map so they could send someone to collect them—was a surprise blessing, because it felt like it took hours upon hours. As Em looked up at the sky, she saw that the sun had barely moved, which meant it didn’t take nearly that long after all.

Lia composed herself enough to murmur the Dalish blessing for the departed over the dead and, finally finished with their grim task, the five moved on.

It took them another two hours before they reached the stairs that would lead them up to Winterwatch Tower properly. As they mounted the final landing, noise of fighting drew their attention away from the path.

“Templar deserters!” Varric growled as they changed course and headed towards the skirmish. Em snarled as she broke into a sprint, pulling ahead of the rest of the group. She just wanted to be _done_ with the day already and she was pretty sure it was only just afternoon now. She just wanted to make sure a woman in the Crossroads would be able to breathe again. She hadn’t anticipated how draining the constant walking and fighting and walking some more would be.

Em realized she already hated the Hinterlands and they’d barely even begun their planned week here—and if things went as they had been, she was pretty sure it would be longer than a week before they were able to get back to Haven again. And they weren’t anywhere close to closing the Breach.

She wanted to go _home._

As Em got closer, it was easier to tell who was fighting whom. Two templars in full armor, both carrying longswords—though only one held a shield—and a much lighter-armored figure with a dagger and a bow and arrow doing their best to get distance between themselves and the templars. 

A familiar voice came from the three and Em pushed herself to go faster in order to jump in and help, “How’d’you like _that,_ assholes!” It was Scout Ritts, the same one who had helped them in the Crossroads. Well... _shit._

Em barrelled into one of the Templars, knocking them to the ground. Their weapon dropped from a surprised hand as Em rolled to get them underneath her. She hadn’t unsheathed her weapons, not wanting to sprint with blades in her hands over uneven ground, which she was now extra grateful for as it allowed her to yank the templar’s bucket helmet off their head in the split second it took them to recover from being knocked to the ground.

Em was able to chuck the helmet over the cliff just before the templar thrust their hips, knocking her off balance and allowing them to roll her to the side. She latched onto their breastplate with both hands, bringing her head forward and smashing her forehead into their chin. Her legs wrapped around the templar’s waist as best they could, using everything in her power not to let go. She managed to get just enough momentum to roll them both back over so she was on top again, releasing one hand from the templar’s breastplate in order to throw a wild haymaker to their ear. 

From behind her, Em heard the _click–clunk–THUNK_ of Varric’s crossbow, but she couldn’t do much more than notice it as the Templar’s plate-gloved hand returned her blow. She managed to shift so it only caught her in the side, but it hurt like a motherfucker when it landed. With a cry, she leaned in and began furiously landing blows on the templar’s face—the only unarmored part of their body. They were able to get in a few hits as well, attempting to shift and either roll her off of them, or get to their sword. Em, however, did not only rely on her fist, but employed open hands and scratching to make sure that the templar never had the upper hand for long. 

“Em, _move!”_ Lia called and Em immediately dropped to the side, rolling away from the Templar as a blast of lightning flew over her, missing her by inches. She felt the static over her skin even through her armor and pressed herself into the ground, digging her fingers in as the spell hit its target. The templar screamed as the metal of their armor conducted the electricity and Em knew she’d have a chorus of those sounds in her dreams by the time this whole ordeal was over.

Possibly just by the end of the week, if their current luck held.

Silence fell over the group; the only sound was that of everyone catching their breath. Em took a few shaky breaths, her fingers still deeply imbedded in the cold soil, just laying in the grass and looking off to the side.

A blanket covered with picnic supplies was what she saw when her brain finally caught up with her eyes. On the blanket lay a woman with shorn hair and pointed ears in robes.

_Fuck._

“Having fun?” She asked, projecting her voice to be heard from her position laying down on the ground.

“What?” Came Ritts’ response, confused and startled. Em picked up one hand and gestured to the picnic blanket.

“Having fun?” She repeated.

“Oh, um.”

“Shit, scout. That’s impressive.” Varric whistled, sounding genuinely impressed.

“I wasn’t— I mean…” Ritts tried to deny the evidence.

Em pushed herself up from the ground, wiping the dirt from her fingers off on her trousers, “Is okay.” She shrugged as she turned to Ritts, whose pointed ears were low and flickering with apprehension. Wide eyes darted from person to person, afraid. “Not to be punish,” Em explained, “Just for clarify. No in trouble. Am...um…” Em cursed quietly, her meagre knowledge of Trade failing her for the second time that day, “Ar abelas sul laimem marni.”

“Oh...um...Thank you.” Ritts’ voice was quiet, “Also for helping. Without you, I’d...well...Eldredda wouldn’t be the only casualty here.” She gestured meekly to the mage.

Em nodded, “Could use you. Have skill, might be worth more than patrol?”

“Seriously!” Varric still sounded impressed, “Look, kid, if you can talk an apostate out of her pants in the middle of a war, you’ve got a gift. Use it. Make contacts, get information, and help the Inquisition,” He gestured widely with his hands as he tended to when he spoke, “Do that, and our lips are sealed.”

Lia jabbed at him with the butt of her staff, “We’d keep quiet regardless,” She gave Varric a pointed look. 

He grinned sheepishly, “I mean, _yeah.”_

“All right, I can do that. And...thanks for going easy on me.” Ritts scrubbed the back of her neck, touching where the short dark hair ended like a nervous tick.

Em shrugged, “Is no go easy, is be reasonable.”

Ritts gave her a small smile, “Of course, my lady.”

Em waved her hand dismissively, “No of that. Is Ashael, or just ‘hey you!’”

Ritts gave a snort of laughter, before catching herself. Em grinned big.

“Go ahead and report back to wherever you’re meant to go next. Meet up with us at Harding’s camp in the outskirts in a few days and we’ll start working on places you can help out.” Lia said. Ritts saluted them both with a hand on her chest before jogging off in the direction that the party had come from.

“Can we please not have to...fight any more people today?” Lia sighed as the scout moved out of earshot.

“«People, probably. In general, probably not.»” Em grunted, looking up towards Winterwatch Tower with a groan. 

“«Ugh, you’re right. I hate that you’re right.»” Lia groused as the group began the hike up to the keep.

* * *

Speaker Anais was...an interesting woman. Severe features with an equally severe outlook on the situation regarding the Breach, and it wasn’t like she held any sort of charisma at all to be able to begin—much less _lead—_ a cult. It seemed less like a cult, even, and more just...a desperate attempt to make sense of the chaos surrounding the tearing of the Veil and the Mage–Templar War.

Considering the lack of knowledge surrounding the cause and effects of the Breach, it wasn’t exactly like the cult was even a surprising result. Though their skepticism about Lia’s ability to close rifts was a bit frustrating.

“No, I _can_ close the rifts.” Lia said, feeling frustration mount as she spoke to Speaker Anais.

“Then prove it.” Anais said, at once a challenge and a dismissal, “Show me that the rifts bend to your will, the will of the Maker. Show me the power you wield.”

“Oh for…” Lia cursed under her breath, “I mean, obviously I’m going to close the rift you’ve got so demons stop coming in because obviously that’s a _problem.”_ She huffed a sigh, “But I’m not from the Maker. It’s just—It’s _magic._ Not miracles.” Anais wasn’t paying attention, having ordered the portcullis to raise and allow the five inside the keep. Not that Lia had really been speaking to anyone but herself _anyway,_ but still. It was the principle of the thing.

The keep in the hills was _packed_ with people. Desperate people looking for answers filled every corner of the dilapidated building. And from the back came a green glow that sparked and fizzled ominously over the anxious chatter of the occupants of the fortress. Solas said something, but Lia’s entire attention was on her next task.

Lia squared her shoulders, gripped her staff, and stepped forward, one foot in front of the other until she reached the entrance of the cave that the rift sat inside.

The others readied themselves behind her as she shucked off the glove that covered her left hand. The Anchor called to the rift, or maybe it was the rift calling to the Anchor. Either way, the uncomfortable, slightly magnetic pull of the magic that infused the skin and bones of her palm tugged her forward step by step, her hand raising to meet the tear in the Veil.

As she made the connection more real in her mind, the rift shot two streams of Fade into the cave, ending in bubbling, electric pools. She turned her entire focus to the mental image of stitching up the fabric of the Veil, pulling it closed and sealing it tight with suture-like magic. Around her Varric, Solas, Cassandra, and Em battled the demons that formed out of the Fade pools. Lia didn’t break her concentration to see what kind they were. It didn’t matter, as long as she closed the rift. Once the rift closed it would break the demons’ connection with the Fade and they would either become weaker or disappear. Either way, her friends would be safer for it.

The thread she weaved in the rift started to pull taut as she forced the magic to do her bidding. Her will was stronger than the rift. As long as she knew that—not believed it, but _knew_ it—she would win. 

_SssssssPOP_

The Fade rift zipped closed with the same backwards snap sound it had made in the Temple and up the mountain. The demons had been defeated, and Em and the others panted to catch their breath. Lia shook her hand out, the phantom pain of sealing the rift echoing in her bones with a tingling, burning, almost numb sensation.

“Everyone okay?” She asked the group as potions were passed around. There were nods and murmurs of assent as they climbed the short staircase back up to the keep-proper. The cultists had gathered and several were kneeling in supplication—praying or praising the Maker and, if her ears were to be believed, her as well.

She grimaced and flushed red, mortified at the ordeal. Em slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“«Eh, they believed weird things anyway. This group isn’t one we should worry about,»” Em sighed, laying her head on Lia’s as Lia rested her head on Em’s shoulder. It was an awkward angle for both of them, but they meandered through the throng of people until they came to Speaker Anais again.

“Maker’s tears!” Anais exclaimed as she surveyed their sweaty faces and the lack of glowing green behind them. And probably Lia’s sparkling hand where the Mark lay, “I was a fool to have doubted you. How may we serve you, Herald of Andraste?”

Lia closed her eyes briefly—still leaning on Em, though no longer resting her head on Em’s shoulder, “Just...If you hear of any information that might be of use to the Inquisition, send it along to us. We’ll have scouts in the area, and if none are available nearby, there will absolutely be some stationed in the Crossroads.” She sighed, “And help the refugees. They need all the assistance they can get. Lodging, food, medical attention. Whatever you can do to help.” Anais nodded.

“Of course, Herald of Andraste.”

“And...There are two people we are looking for, as well,” Lia said, remembering the other reasons they were down here, “An elf named Hyndel and a man named Lord Berand?”

“Brother Hyndel will be in that tower at this time of day,” Anais indicated the location with a sweeping motion of her hand towards the tower, “And Brother Berand is generally on the second floor of that tower. He is waiting for another to join him before the Maker takes us all to his side once more.” 

Lia fought a wince with what she hoped came out as a pleasant smile, “Thank you, Speaker.” 

“Of course, Herald. Farewell to both you and the Blade of the Maker,” Anais bowed low, and several people around them followed suit before leaving the group to their own devices. 

“«Could have been worse,»” Em sighed.

“«Could have been bears.»” Lia murmured in response, nodding solemnly.

* * *

After speaking with Hyndel and somehow managing to convince him to just go home to his mother and father, they spoke with Lord Berand, handing him the letter from Vellina. 

He was silent as he read it, though he mouthed the words.

“This letter…” He finally said, after a few read-throughs.

“We...found it on the body of a woman.” Lia said, softly.

“Vellina is...dead?” Berand’s tone was soft, disbelieving, and unbearably sad. Lia’s heart broke.

“I...yes.” Lia replied.

“But...but we were meant to be together!” Berand exclaimed, “The Maker would not keep us apart!”

“I am so sorry, Lord Berand,” Lia said. He glanced back down at the letter.

“What am I supposed to do now?” His voice was so small, so hopeless. Lia saw the letter tremble in his shaking hands.

“Inquisition needs men of strong faith.” Em said, coming to Lia’s side and placing a hand on her shoulder, “Come help. Restore order. Honor Vellina.”

Berand looked up at them both, despair and hope warring on his face before he nodded. His expression slid into resolution, “Yes. Yes, if waiting here in the hills leaves innocents to die then I will bring the Maker’s word by the sword.”

Em flinched, “Or...use influence and resolution to be good example?” She suggested gently.

Berand blinked, “Oh...Oh, yes that as well, I suppose.” He cleared his throat and continued, “My men and I will lend our strength to the Inquisition.” He bowed to both Lia and Em.

“That’s...Okay.” Lia nodded, at a loss for words at the man’s rather passionate method of just jumping in whole-hog to whatever he chose to do.

“I...Thank you. For telling me of Vellina’s fate.” Berand said, softly. “It is...better to know.”

“We have plans to retrieve her and the others who were with her, to honor their lives properly,” Lia said. “If you have anything you know would have been her preference, we would like to make sure she’s properly laid to rest.”

“Yes...yes of course. Actually...if I could...I would take care of it,” He stammered out.

“Oh,” Lia blinked, “That...Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’m sure she would have wanted someone who cared to make sure things were settled properly.” She pulled out the map and showed Berand the location they’d left Vellina and her party, “We’ve moved them off the road, so they wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone. It’s about a two hour walk from here.”

“Thank you. Again.” Berand said as he noted the location on a map of his own. “Whatever the Inquisition needs, I will be happy to provide.”

“We’ll be in touch, I’m sure. Send information along through one of our camps or straight to Haven if you have anything.”

Farewells spoken, Lia and Em watched Berand gather the men he’d brought to Winterwatch. Then they walked with arms wrapped around one another, leaning on each other for support as they left the keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, direct from Project Elvhen:
> 
> G’on? - Everything well? What's up? (contraction of ga son) || Used with: Friends and colleagues, informal (using the Everything well? translation this time)  
> Vin - yes/yeah  
> Dhru’dys’eth - Literally faith'chance'safety, or as I put it: Faith in the chance of safety. (this is, of course, the constellation Judex at the Astrarium just up the way from the Outskirts camp. Obviously I am not using the image of the sword as the constellation here but more of an arrow - also I'm having a bit of fun playing around with how much Tevinter adopted from Arlathan/Elvhenan and how or what was butchered in the years after it was adopted).  
> asa’lath - her love  
> Ar abelas sul laimem marni. - I am sorry for the loss of your friend (more or less, this one is not a word-for-word translation as most of them are. It reads more "I sorrow for lost your-friend" so might be more "I'm sorry you lost your friend" but we're running with it.)


	9. Exit, Pursued By...Oh Hell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all knew this was coming, don't even try to deny it.
> 
> Coulda been worse. Coulda been...Ah you know where that's going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, *I* think I'm funny.
> 
> Also a tiny cameo of a good friend of mine who you should absolutely go check out: concertconfetti.tumblr.com , also on here as archiveofourown.org/users/concertconfetti/ (I've forgotten how to do links, this is the best I can do right now I might come back and fix it later I might not, y'all just gonna have to deal sorry)
> 
> Text between « and » is Elvhen, translations courtesy of Project Elvhen. Translations located at the end of the chapter.

For some reason the side quests were a lot less exciting in person than they were in game when you didn’t want to progress the storyline. For one, they weren’t asking for help from the Inquisition—they were asking for help particularly from the group stationed in the Hinterlands, _specifically_ Lia and Em and their small band, because no one knew the Inquisition. They knew this tiny group of people who helped to calm the issue in the Crossroads, closed rifts around the countryside, and saved countless lives.

For two, the Hinterlands were...surprisingly big. And empty.

Well, except for all the nugs. And the foxes. And the rams.

“—And the fucking _BEARS!”_ Lia screeched as they ran from the roaring behemoth behind them, spells shooting from her staff blindly as they attempted to navigate the overgrowth and the rocks that littered the path, “Someone could have warned us about the _fucking_ bears!”

“No one’s disagreeing here, Sahrena!” Varric shouted, twisting at the waist to shoot a bolt from Bianca to try and dissuade the bear that was quickly gaining ground.

“Talk less, run more!” Em shrieked, her coattails snagging on a low bush and causing her to trip, leaving her within inches of the bear’s next swipe of its massive claws. How the fuck were bears even allowed to _get_ that big anyway?

Em was disentangled with help from Cassandra, who warded off the next blow from the bear with her shield, grunting at the impact. As soon as Em was unencumbered, the two quickly caught up with the other three. Solas had moved ahead—some sort of magic that allowed him to travel a fair distance very quickly, what was the name of that _spell?_ If she could remember it, maybe Lia could try it too—and was aiming spells and placing sigils in the path of the bear as best he could with Cassandra and Em only seconds in front of it.

“Hurry! There’s a small cave to the left. It won’t be able to fit or make the turn in time!” He called from his vantage point. 

“Which left?!” She called out, panicking a little as she glanced to her left and saw nothing. No no, no adrenaline here—that would be _supremely_ unhelpful if this came to a bigger fight than just trying to fend off the bear or get it to leave them alone.

“Mine!” 

“Fucking—! «It’s not a marching band! That’s not left!»” Em groused, leaping over a log and ducking behind a rock, “There!” She pointed, taking the second to scope out where the entrance was—on _their_ right. Ass.

Em screamed as the bear barrelled through the log, smashing it to smithereens, and she scrambled to get out of the way before it decided to check on what made the noise. The number of arrows and bolts sticking out of the bears thick fur and barely even scratching the surface of its tough hide told her all she needed to know about how effective she’d be at helping with her two little daggers or the bow that wasn’t strung and the arrows that were tightly quivered. That amount being _not even a little._

“Ashael! To your left!” Em rolled quickly at the shout—she couldn’t even figure out who it was in the commotion, more terrified of being caught by the bear than trying to see who was helping her out. As she moved away a sigil burst into life where she’d been, and the bear stepped on it, roaring in pain as fire exploded up its leg. The scent of burnt hair mixed with the smell of musky bear and Em wrinkled her nose, gagging a little.

She wedged herself in between two large rocks, small enough that she could fit snugly, but deep enough that the bear shouldn’t be able to reach her, were it to get any kind of ideas about chasing her down. The stray thought of a scene from a book she’d read a couple of times flashed through her head, and she cursed the evocative writing style from the Clan of the Cave Bear for sticking there for all time. She did _not_ want a scar from this, absolutely the fuck not. It wasn’t even a lion.

She fought back the hysterical laugh that threatened to bubble out of her chest at the thought and tucked herself further back just in case.

Outside of her hideyhole, Lia and Varric tugged Cassandra into the tiny cave as Solas swung himself down and into the dark space before he and Lia both warded the entrance. 

“Fuck the Hinterlands, fuck the Templars, and fuck this bear in particular!” Lia cursed, putting up the last of her part of the barrier spell to keep the bear out. Solas was quickly wrapping up his own portion of the spell as well, exhaling noisily through his nose in exasperation.

“I think you will find no argument among us, Herald.” Cassandra huffed a sigh as she leaned against the cave wall, her sword and shield drooping to the ground as she took a moment to breathe.

“Where’s Ashael?” Varric asked, as they looked around.

Solas and Lia exchanged a glance between them before glancing at the barrier they’d just constructed.

Ah, _fuck._

* * *

Back in the hideyhole, Em listened to the bear trundle into the narrow pass they'd run through. Since she was already behind the beast, she held her breath and tried to stay as still as possible so it wouldn't try to turn around for her. If she could wait until it got bored and wandered away…

She heard the others scrambling into what she assumed was the cave Solas had pointed out, the bear hot on their heels and making angry bear noises that weren't quite roars about it. It echoed uncomfortably in her tiny hiding spot, and she covered her ears tightly, trying to avoid whimpering about it. If she could get through fireworks season in the mountains of Virginia she could get through this.

She hoped the bear moved on soon, though.

Em listened to it grumble and shuffle around, still too close by for her to escape her hideaway. And if she removed her hands from her ears—as she did eventually when the bear became more subdued, though irritatingly still within danger-range—she could hear the hum of a magic barrier. She wouldn’t have recognized it except they’d run into a couple during their meanderings throughout the hills and trees and caves and such that littered the landscape of the Hinterlands. It was good that everyone was safe behind the barrier, she thought, but it was also incredibly inconvenient for quickly heading over to hide with them.

She hunkered down in her spot, settling slowly and carefully so she was sitting more than she was crouching, wrapping her arms around her knees and breathing slowly. Well, she could wait. Wouldn’t be the worst thing she’d ever had to wait out, anyway.

* * *

Back in the warded cave, Lia was pacing. She knew she was pacing—she also knew she was chewing on her bottom lip and picking at the skin she peeled up from it as she chewed.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Sahrena.” Varric was attempting to reassure her. It had been… 

Well, it was hard to tell exactly how long it had been, but it definitely hadn’t been a short amount of time and the bear was _still_ outside the cave just… rooting around and pacing and generally not leaving.

“We left her!” Lia exclaimed, her voice pitching a little high and breaking as she threw her hands in the air, “She’s out there and we left her and there’s a _bear.”_

“She’s resourceful—”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be worried!” Lia interrupted Varric, cutting off a line she was pretty sure he’d used on Cassandra on the way up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

“Of course you are allowed to be worried, Herald,” Cassandra said, her tone steady and assured, “but you must also remember that the Blade is a strong woman who has taken on many foes already. You mentioned she was a hunter for your clan—she knows how to handle the wild and will be able to survive until the bear has left.”

Lia took in a shaky breath, trying very hard not to release the manic bark of laughter that threatened to escape from her chest. Sure, _Ashael_ might have been some sort of hunter for Clan Lavellan, but _Em_ had never hunted in her entire life until they’d gone on this stupid trip to the stupid Hinterlands and now she was out in unfamiliar land and there was a _bear._ Why was no one else freaking out about the _bear?_

Solas had been exceptionally quiet and Lia didn’t know how she felt about that either. Was he quiet because he was concerned, quiet because he’d generally just been quiet since Em had apparently given him the dressing down of the century before they’d left for the Hinterlands, or quiet because he _wasn’t_ concerned and didn’t want to let on about it—because realistically, how likely was it that he actually cared if any of them got hurt? Em technically wasn’t necessary to close the Breach, just Lia, and so it would be even easier for him to do what he wanted with his plans for the end of the world or the beginning of the world or _whatever_ it was he was trying to do with the Veil and the Fade and whatever and—

“Hey, whoa, calm down. I don’t know what you’re thinking about right this second, but you should probably breathe,” Varric had stepped in front of her and was holding Lia in place, halting her frantic pacing and pulling her hands away from her lips. Lia gasped, realizing she’d somehow been both hyperventilating and holding her breath and she did kind of feel a little dizzy now.

“Lady Herald, you should sit,” Cassandra was at her side and Lia let the warrior take her elbow and help her settle down, “I was unthinking and callous, my apologies. You and Ashael have not been separated by danger since after the Conclave, and this has been a troubling time for you both.” 

“I can’t take on a _bear.”_ Lia said, softly, looking up at Cassandra’s face. The woman looked fondly exasperated.

“No one has asked you to,” She murmured and Lia collapsed forward into her shoulder, the motion a little more painful than anticipated as she clunked her head into Cassandra’s mail-covered shoulder.

Lia was glad she’d spent so much time bonding with Cassandra back in Haven, watching Em train with Meg and making dumb bets about the outcomes of the fights or whether or not Em would notice Cullen’s ogling. She had already suggested several books that Lia and Em might read for fun, even going so far as to lend Lia a story—a personal copy of one of Cassandra’s favorites, Percival of Dew Grove. Lia had read it ravenously, needing something other than the dry historical and political texts she’d been given to peruse by Josephine. Considering the only real free-time Lia had gotten over the weeks spent in Haven were the hours between when Em passed out on her cot and Lia finally felt tired enough to sleep, she’d managed to get through the impressively hefty tome rather quickly. Lia hadn’t expected much from the story as the title left something to be desired, but the author, Gideon Thatch, had a lot to surprise Lia with. Bonding over the main story themes and characters in general had been diverting and relieving for Lia, to such an extent that she sketched a drawing of the main character of the book and gifted it to Cassandra as a surprise. The sketch had been hastily done on a scrap of parchment using a quill and ink—her preferred method would have used a ball point pen for sketching, but lacking those in Thedas, she made do with what she had available. Cassandra had taken it reverently and placed it in her tent, thanking Lia sincerely and telling her that it would be placed somewhere safe.

It was nice to have made friends in Thedas. It would be nicer if there wasn’t still a _bear_ outside the cave where her _best friend_ happened to be, but beggars etc.

Lia sighed, whining a little as Cassandra patted her back firmly and only slightly awkwardly, “Is it gone yet?”

“Not yet, though I believe it is becoming bored.” Solas reported from the entrance by the barrier. Lia took a steadying breath, leaning back from Cassandra and squeezing her shoulder fondly as she shoved herself to her feet carefully.

“Thanks, Cass— er.” 

“You’re very welcome, Sahrena.” Cassandra said, the use of Lia’s name rather than her title said with a fond smile, though Lia was pretty sure it would have been a bit more fond looking if Cassandra hadn’t rolled her eyes so hard.

“Alright, let’s see if we can’t get to Ashael.” Lia said, peeking through the barrier to see the bear starting to trundle off away from the group in the direction they’d all been heading initially.

It was a few moments before Lia and Solas carefully dispelled the barrier. Then they carefully and quietly moved out of the cave, watching the still meandering bear wander off, its furry butt waddling a little as it stopped and sniffed what appeared to be every single flower on the way out of the ravine. As soon as they could reasonably be assured it wouldn’t turn right around and come after them, the group focused back the way they had come to try and see if they could spot Em.

It was like she’d completely disappeared. There was no trace of her at first glance—which on the one hand was actually reassuring as Lia was pretty sure if the bear had found her and gone after her, there would be a lot more mess to indicate that Em was hurt or worse. On the other hand, it meant that they had no idea where Em was.

“Ashael?” Lia stage whispered, trying to make sure she was heard by her friend but not by the bear that was still too close for comfort.

There was rustling from some large boulders to their right, and Em’s head popped out from between two of them in a space that Lia’s brain couldn’t wrap around being large enough for a full grown woman, even one Em’s size, to fit in.

“Iovro varem?” Em stage whispered back, glancing around warily.

“Vin.” Lia answered, “«Well...mostly. Stay quiet, but it’s pretty much gone. Out of aggro range anyway.»” Em snorted deep in her throat at that as she slowly extricated herself from her hiding spot. It really was tiny and clearly hadn’t actually been big enough for Em to fit in comfortably but she’d managed in the pinch of needing _somewhere_ to hide from the bear.

“Thank the Maker you’re alright,” Cassandra said, helping Em up with an offered forearm, which Em took gratefully to pull herself upright.

“Hm, if Maker is help, could find better space less small,” Em teased, “But yes, am safe.”

As soon as Em was clear of the rocks and steady on her feet, Lia practically tackled her to the ground with the force of her hug.

“«I’m very sorry I could not fight the bear away for you.»” She muttered, rocking Em back and forth slightly.

“«What?»” Em chuckled a little, “«Who asked you to do that?»”

“«No one, but still.»”

Em squeezed her arms around Lia, “You is very silly. No is need fight a bear. Appreciate thought, though.” 

“That’s what I attempted to tell her!” Cassandra huffed, throwing her arms up. Em laughed, pressing her face into Lia’s shoulder. 

“When did you learn the word for ‘bear’ anyway?” Varric asked as Em and Lia pulled away from one another and they all headed back to where they first encountered the bear to get their, ah...bearings and return to their path towards Dennet’s ranch. 

“Is hard not to learn what thing that is chase you is when _someone_ screams it at top of their voice whole time,” Em teased, bumping Lia’s ribs gently with her elbow.

“I’m sorry, but we definitely should have been warned about them!” Lia fussed, rolling her eyes.

“Is fine, cause you is a _gem.”_ Em emphasized the rhyming word with a wicked grin. Cassandra groaned, striding ahead with her long gait as Lia and Em broke into giggles and began their Princess Bride reference game in earnest.

* * *

The rest of their journey to Dennet’s ranch was thankfully uneventful. Their detour into bear territory was to allow them to circumvent bandits on the main road—as well as the pockets of lingering Templars and Mages that hadn’t gotten the hint to leave yet. They’d gone to both encampments to try and reason with the groups separately, but there were others still roaming the countryside, seemingly unconnected to any faction in the war but their own. 

Most of the Mages in Witchwood had been amenable to heading to Redcliffe to join the less antagonistic rebels, though some had decided to volunteer their services to the Inquisition. Those that hadn’t chosen either option were taken in, same as the Templars, to be dealt with in a more formal manner. These smaller groups of Mages and Templars that they met on the road were unaligned with either the captured Templars, the Val Royeaux Templars, the Inquisition, or the Rebel Mages—and generally didn’t take kindly to being spoken to about their stances. It was unfortunate, and Lia and Em did their best to try and incapacitate where they could—though Cassandra, Solas, and Varric didn’t have quite the compunctions the two elven women did about properly neutralizing the threats and sometimes there was little else that could be done.

There were plans in place with the Inquisition scouts in the area—specifically through Corporal Vale and the volunteers he was able to gather from the capable refugees—to start taking more of the smaller groups out and begin clearing the roads. There were also discussions of building watchtowers in the area to help scout for the bandits who tended to hide in the hills and rocky outcroppings.

That Em and Lia would be getting a head start on some of the things that Dennet would eventually ask of them, well...That was just proper planning.

They finally pitched camp just at the edge of some rather expansive farmlands. Some of the features of the landscape looked familiar—like the landscape from the games, and Lia and Em both realized exactly how large the space would have had to be in order to support actual farmland. They were going to have a _lot_ of walking to do in order to get things done around here.

The nearby stream just downhill had been perfect for a quick wash before they'd bedded down for the night. It was also the first chance they’d had to properly bathe since… since… 

Lia and Em had stalled their undressing momentarily to blink at one another as they realized they hadn’t bathed outside of a quick wash rag to the face and sweaty bits since before they’d landed in Thedas. _Ew._

With how cold it was in Haven and the Hinterlands, it wasn’t exactly like they’d ever fully undressed, either. And so they both startled when, as they finally were ready to undertake the trial of Frigid Creek Waters, they noticed additional Vallaslin.

“«Lia! Your _back!»”_ Em exclaimed with a gasp. Lia panicked and tried to turn herself around to see what was causing Em’s alarm.

“Ahn? Ahn ra?” She spun herself in a circle frantically reaching for her shoulderblades.

“Mar veth’vallaslin!” Em said, reaching out to stop Lia from making herself dizzy with her spinning.

 _“Creators,_ Em, don’t scare me like that!” Lia fussed, relaxing a little, “Wait...What do you mean my veth’vallaslin?”

“«I mean you have vallaslin on your back!»” Em said, gesticulating to the tattoos that Lia still couldn’t see. As she did so, however, Lia caught a flash of ink out of the corner of her eye.

“Nevermind my veth’vallaslin, Mar la’vallaslin!” She waved her hand at Em’s left bicep where thin lines traced the pattern of Falon’Din’s winding pathways through the Fade. She turned to better get a better look and gasped again, “Mar _tar’shol’lavin’vallaslin!”_

Em glanced down, “Druast _etunash.”_ She breathed as she took in the dark lines and patterns drawn in the same black ink that covered her face, this time in Syalaise’s pattern, though not their Clan’s version of the pattern. This came from the south—from Ferelden specifically.

Lia tried not to think about how she knew that particular knowledge. The Thedas Instinct was still weird to her.

Em pulled her hip and leg around to better get a look at the tattoo that wrapped her right hip and thigh, “Fenedhis…” she breathed.

“«That’s hella gorgeous.»” Lia commented.

“«You think this is good, you should see yours! We’ll have to find a mirror or two so you can look at it.»” Em enthused, gesturing to all of Lia. What Lia wasn’t able to see was a continuation of June’s vallaslin branching across her back, leaves rising off them in the dark green of summer foliage. Em did her best to describe it to the other, but without the ability to see it, Lia wouldn’t know exactly what it looked like until she was able to get in front of a mirror—and who knew how long that would take.

They continued to exclaim to one another about their tattoos as they bathed, distracted by the ink lines so much they forgot about what would have normally made them modest or shy around anyone else. 

After bathing, they ate a quick dinner, and exhaustion allowed both of them to drop into the first night of deep sleep they’d gotten since leaving Haven.

* * *

Em grunted a little as she stretched her arms above her head, not having yet put on her jacket to stave off the chill of the brisk winter’s morning. The Hinterlands apparently didn’t tend to see much snow, but that didn’t stop the cold wind whipping up through the natural wind tunnels created by the mountains. It was fairly early in the morning yet—Em wasn’t generally a morning person, but it seemed that with the exertion of a days hike for nearly two weeks in a row, plus a lack of ability to keep the sun from hitting the tent almost as soon as it rose, well… Early nights always seemed to lead to early mornings, didn’t they?

Didn’t stop her feeling a little stiff and sore from multiple days of sleeping on the ground and running around and fighting occasionally.

She laced her fingers together and leaned first to one side and then the other, stretching the muscles over her ribs and her obliques gently. Her right side pulled a little more than her left and she winced, easing up on the stretch a little before straightening and twisting her back to see if she could get it to pop.

“«Morning calisthenics?»” Lia teased, yawning widely as she spoke. Em stuck her tongue out.

“Nere,” She replied, “«You’re up early.»” Even on the road it was a struggle to get Lia out of bed before the sun was nearly a quarter of the way through the sky. That she was up at the same time as Em, only about an hour after the sun had begun peeking over the mountains and shining brightly onto the roof of their shared tent, well...that was nearly unheard of.

Lia grimaced, “Telameren.”

Em winced in sympathy, “Ar abelas. «Wanna talk about it?»” Her own dreams had been plagued with the image of the two Templars since the Crossroads, not to mention the demons from the Temple, and her mind’s feeble attempts to process and understand everything else that was happening around them. Yet another reason she found it difficult to sleep past when the sun rose overhead.

Lia shrugged but was saved from answering when Cassandra came up over the hillside to the east that led to the stream Lia and Em had bathed in the night before. The sun glinted off her slightly scuffed breastplate, and the morning light highlighted the planes of her face in a way that Em would have initially thought to be just theatrical lighting tricks or Instagram filters. But no, apparently, people could actually just look unbelievably gorgeous and frankly it was entirely unfair. She felt her breath stutter to a stop as she gaped wide eyed at the short-haired woman approaching them.

Cassandra seemed to take no notice as she approached the two elves, nodding to them with a curt morning greeting. Up close Em could see Cassandra’s hair was damp. Had she been... _bathing?_ Be still her heart, she _had._

“There are several wolves behaving rather erratically beyond the stream on the other side of the ravine. I also heard the sound of a distressed druffalo, but I do not believe it to be in any particular danger from the wolves. The rift over the falls, on the other hand…” Cassandra trailed off, snorting derisively.

“Big?” Lia hazarded a guess. They didn’t know much about what made certain things more difficult to tackle than others, and so far the only difference to indicate how tricky a rift was to close was the relative size to the others they’d tackled thus far.

“Not quite the size of the one at the Temple, but certainly larger than the ones we have seen so far,” Cassandra confirmed. “I would suggest we take out the wolves in the area before going for the rift as they could cause an additional issue during any fighting that might occur.” 

“Smart.” Lia nodded, glancing at Em with a raised eyebrow. Em shook herself, blinking.

“Yes, good plan. Might see what is cause for wolves acting weird, too.” Em bobbed her head up and down emphatically, “Could be rift activity making things scare for them, cause them to react bad.”

“It has been posited that animals are more sensitive to weak points in the Veil and increased Fade activity,” Solas piped up. Em jumped a little but managed to keep herself from making a noise. Well a noise more than just a sharp gasp.

“Oh?” Lia’s ears perked up as she turned to face Solas. While she and Em had discussed some of their theories on magic in Thedas—usually late at night before they headed to bed—it was more focused on their thoughts about how they understood magic to work from the Dragon Age lore, supplemented by what Lia had learned from using magic while they were in Thedas, as well as their thoughts on how magic from other fandoms and universes might apply to the rules they encountered as they actually experienced it. In addition to that, they also explored what Lia could dredge up from her mind using the memories of Sahrena and the Thedas Instinct. 

They had wondered what kind of effect the Fade and the Veil might have on the wildlife, both flora and fauna, outside of just making things big. If it created disturbances like ghostlike apparitions and spirits coming through on occasion if the Veil got too thin or the Fade became too strong in a certain area, would it make animals behave the way ghosts and spirits were supposed to make animals on Earth react?

These conversations were generally more theoretical than practical, as only one of them could actually test their theories, but it was fun to speculate and debate what might or might not work and have Lia experiment in what little ways she could. So far they’d determined that magic pretty much just did whatever. Lia controlled what it looked like and how it performed, but other than that there was no true rhyme or reason to it. If she needed a spell to shoot further than she’d ever had it go before, she just had to believe it would go the distance and still be effective. If she wanted the spell to behave a certain way, or expected a specific outcome, it would do so as long as she believed it would—good or bad, which wasn’t ideal, but it did lend itself so far to playful teasing once the danger was out of the way.

Lia and Solas stepped to the side to continue discussing magical theory and more detailed ideas of how magic worked in Thedas, Em rolling her eyes fondly. She yawned widely, her jaw cracking as she stretched upwards to the sky one last time, shaking her head a little before searching around for her breastplate. The leather armor was settled off to the side where she’d placed it on exiting the ten,t and she bent over to pick it up. There was a strangled choking sound from behind Em and she shot up, spinning around.

Cassandra was coughing into her closed fist and trying desperately to clear her throat. Em winced in sympathy, “Is swallow wrong way?” She asked Cassandra as she shrugged into the leather breastplate and did up the buckles and straps on the side.

“Ah, yes. Yes. And...um...Hayfever. I’m going to—” Cassandra gestured towards a small copse of trees and Em nodded.

“Sure, be safe.” Em waved and focused on pulling on her vambraces and gloves, only looking up to follow Cassandra walking away when she was sure the other woman wasn’t paying attention. “«Damn...Ass like that should be illegal...»” She huffed a laugh at herself, shaking her head again as she pulled on her jacket. Her greaves had already been strapped on before she’d left the tent, having gotten into the habit of putting them on immediately after lacing up her boots. She heard a thud and one of the small trees where Cassandra had wandered off to shook like it’d been hit with something substantial.

“Weird time to have hayfever,” Lia said, a smile on her face like she knew something Em didn’t, and Em rolled her eyes.

“«Are you trying to sneak up on me now, too? Solas is bad enough. Nuva marshos lahnen ir teldara Fen’Harel, indeed.»” Em snorted, gathering her hair up behind her. She’d had to pull it down the night before for bathing. The quick dip in the stream had been all she’d been able to handle with the cold, but it was enough to refresh her a little. Lia had experienced a much better bath, warming the water around her with a casual spell, her eyes going more brown and gold in the dying light of the day as she’d cast the magic around herself. Em had splashed her with the cold water just to be a little spiteful. This hadn’t worked as Lia casually bent the water back at her, leaving Em soaked and sputtering as her friend laughed at her reaction.

But now the dark blonde mass was dry—wavy and a little tangled, but clean—and she needed to contain it again. Rather than the french-braid-to-ponytail style she’d been favoring, Em settled on just a standard braid straight down her back, tying it off with the thick cord she’d been using and weaving the ends into the braid itself to keep it from slipping out and knotting it several times. The braid reached just below her shoulder blades and she fiddled with the ends of it briefly before tucking it into the back of her jacket to keep it out of the way. 

Cassandra came back from the small outcropping of trees, rubbing the knuckles of her left hand and looking stoic as usual. Varric had been off to the side, scribbling in his notebook—probably writing some new tale about how the Herald of Andraste took over the Hinterlands and saved the refugees from the Templars and Mages and became a folk hero, Em thought, rolling her eyes fondly. She flicked his shoulder as she passed him on her way to the edge of their camp and towards the nearest fence and the dirt road that cut through the area.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, unhurriedly putting his notebook away and slinging Bianca's holster over his shoulder. 

"Come on. Want to talk to Dennet early in case has many things want us to do for get horses." Em explained.

"We can't have breakfast first?" Lia whined, indicating the preparations she was making for what essentially amounted to Thedas oatmeal.

"Is you can have. I go talk to Dennet then." Em shrugged, glancing at the large pot with a small grimace. It wasn't that the oatmeal was bad, she just never felt capable of eating anything so soon after waking up. She'd eat some of the hardtack-waybread later if she got peckish before breaking for the midday meal.

"I will accompany you, Lady Blade," Cassandra said, grabbing her shield and stepping up to Em's side.

Varric looked back towards the campfire where Lia was still setting up to cook, sighing.

Em saw and snickered, "You is can stay for have breakfast, Varric. Is no for need everyone." The man brightened immediately, shrugging off Bianca's holster almost as quickly as he'd put it on and ambling over to help Lia set up for breakfast. Em glanced at Cassandra, "You is not have to come, if no want, Seeker-Cassandra," Em offered, a little reluctantly. 

Cassandra shook her head with a smile, making Em's heart flutter in her chest a little. The woman was just too damn attractive—shame she was straight, cause Em would climb her like a goddamn _tree_ if she could, "No, I have already broken my fast and it would be best to approach the horsemaster with someone able to speak Trade clearly." 

Em winced internally but managed to keep the expression on her face pleasantly bland. That...actually hurt a lot more than she’d anticipated. She knew she wasn’t _great_ at speaking Trade but she was getting better! It was easier and easier for her to communicate with people who were new to her particular level of proficiency with the language. She didn’t need a translator—or worse, someone to speak _for_ her. 

Then again...Cassandra had a point. Em _wasn’t_ as good at Trade as she might need to be to navigate the minefield that was convincing a grumpy old horseman to leave his entire life behind and join the Inquisition—or even just allow the Inquisition use of his own horses. 

Still hurt, though.

“Solas? Are you staying or are you going off with Ashael?” Lia asked, finally hooking the pot over the fire to start cooking the oatmeal. She didn't appear to have noticed Cassandra's phrasing, or Em was pretty sure a stern look would have been directed at the Seeker.

Em glanced over at Solas, wanting to see his reaction. No one had addressed the tension that had fallen over the two since she had chewed him out or their continued sharp words exchanged when they discussed things outside the realm of the Inquisition’s mission and duties. It hadn't really been necessary since there was usually at least one person of buffer between them, and there was nothing to discuss outside of Inquisition business between them, as Em had already told him.

Solas’ face was impassive as he considered his options. From Em’s perspective he had two choices: Stay and witness Varric and Lia determinedly not acknowledging their mutual attraction for one another while still flirting and being adorably and uncomfortably domestic, or follow along with Cassandra and Em. Cassandra, who didn’t trust Solas farther than she could throw him—which Em admitted was probably pretty far as she was very strong—and Em who had very clearly expressed a disinterest in speaking to him about things outside of the purview of official Inquisition business.

She supposed he might also choose to do something else entirely, but that wouldn’t fall into the patterns the group had established over nearly a week and a half of travel together.

"It would be good if you came with Ashael and I, in case we were to need a mage." Cassandra offered, "Though I would not wish to keep you from breaking fast."

Solas inclined his head in acknowledgment, "I have already done so. I will travel with you, Lady Seeker and Ashael."

Em nodded, though she didn’t respond otherwise, instead choosing to smile at Lia and Varric where they were stationed around the still-warming pot over the fire, “We be back.” She waved a little.

Lia grinned, waving back, "Dar’eth!"

And with that Em, Solas, and Cassandra left the campsite and headed down the dirt road towards Dennet's farm. 

* * *

The walk took the better part of an hour, but they eventually made their way up the stepped hill towards the main house on Dennet's land. An older, grey-haired woman watched with sharp eyes as she worked in the garden. Em smiled and nodded at her with a wave.

"Good morning! Can we find Horsemaster Dennet in today?" Em asked, her best talking-to-a-customer voice on.

"Aye, my _husband_ will be inside. What business do ye have with him?" The woman looked between Em, Solas, and Cassandra as she straightened and approached the fence separating the garden from the roadway and leaning on it.

"Oh! I’m sorry, yes— ah, My name is Ashael with the Inquisition,” Em began, her rehearsed lines tripping easily off her tongue like a script. She was _very_ glad she’d learned introductions first, “And how would you like me to address you?”

“My name is just fine, I’m Elaina.” She gave Em a hard, skeptical look as Em chirruped her way through the interaction.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mistress Elaina.” Em gave a quick bob of her head and dipped slightly in the knee, a rough approximation of a curtsey. 

Elaina scoffed, “Just Elaina is fine. What is it you want with my husband, Ashael Inquisition?”

“We would like to...ah…” Em fought the urge to curse, as she glanced reluctantly at Solas, “Gerondirth?” She tried.

“Negotiate.” Solas supplied, softly.

“Serannas,” Em sighed, gratefully, “We would like to negotiate for horses for the Inquisition use, and maybe have Master Dennet come to work with us?” 

Elaina’s eyes continued to narrow as she contemplated Em's response—at this rate she’d end up with her eyes closed if she looked at Em with any more suspicion. It took all the years of customer service training Em had under her belt to keep herself from fidgeting under the scrutiny. Finally appearing to come to a decision, Elaina nodded, "Alright. Might be able to get your help with some things. Like I said, my man'll be inside."

"Thank you very much, Elaina!" Em said, earnestly. "We've set up camp down the road about three miles from here. Please feel free to contact anyone of the Inquisition for help with anything you might need." Another half-curtsy from Em, which earned her a mildly bemused smile from Elaina as the older woman turned to go back to her gardening. Em turned to the door of the building and gave a tentative knock as she opened it, peering into the dark interior before properly entering the home. Inside was the dark-skinned horsemaster, working on spooling some rope.

"Who is it?" He asked gruffly, not looking up from his work. 

"Hello, we are with the Inquisition. My name is Ashael, I'm looking for horsemaster Dennet?" Em stepped fully inside, allowing Cassandra and Solas to enter behind her.

At the mention of the Inquisition, Dennet looked up, "That's me. What does the Inquisition want with me?"

"Would like your help with providing horses for the Inquisition, ser." Em explained, "We have only draft horses, for pulling and carrying. Not for riding."

Dennet snorted, turning back to his task, "And they've sent a Halla-rider? Two of them—” he gestured to both Em and Solas “—to ask for horses?"

Cassandra bristled at Em's side and Solas straightened up as well, but Em just grinned and gestured to her companions, "If thought the flat-ears could handle Halla, would have suggested that instead. Easier to get." Dennet looked up at her, blinked, and then let out a startled but enthusiastic laugh.

"Alright, you've got my attention. Do you know how many you're going to need?"

Em and Dennet discussed the particulars, going over the space available in Haven, the ability to procure supplies, how well the set up could accommodate horses, what kind of tasks the animals would be performing, and so forth. Em only needed a little help from time to time with word choice, but Dennet was able to understand her from context generally, if not her actual words and phrasing. It eased something in her chest and shoulders that she _could_ have done this trip on her own, if she'd needed to.

"Would be easier if we had horsemaster of our own," Em sighed as they neared the end of the discussion, "But would not wish to take you from home, from working here."

Dennet grunted, humming in thought, "It's possible with the right structures in place I could travel up to Haven and assist in getting the horses settled at the least."

Em brightened, "You would consider?"

"Aye. There's things in the area that need taking care of that I've been working on since the damn hole in the sky opened up. One of which is a rift right on my land. I think there's another nearby as well, but the closest is directly in the way. I don't imagine anyone could close the thing, but if you could slow the damned demons falling out of it, we'd be grateful."

"Actually, the Herald of Andraste—" Em cleared her throat loudly over Cassandra who winced and corrected herself, "My apologies, Lady Sahrena, who travels with us, is capable of closing the rifts. We will investigate the one on your land and make sure it is closed before we leave for Haven again."

Dennet nodded, "I'll have to take your word for it. My wife might have a few things for you to do as well. Aside from the most pressing issues of working the land, bandits have been all in the hills, making it impossible to travel even without the damn Mages everywhere."

"The Templars and Mages have been apprehended and should not be a bother much longer. Inquisition forces are tasked with cleaning up the bandits and pockets of rogue mages and templars still in the area." Cassandra piped in again. 

"Huh, well. Good to know. Still would be nice to keep an eye out for bandits. Leaving my wife and daughter here to fend for themselves—capable though they may be—doesn't sit right with me."

"Have had people looking into where we can place watch towers and soldiers or scouts to best help protect roads." Em nodded, "If have ideas as where would be good spots for is, will take."

Dennet leaned back and looked at Em carefully, "You're mighty prepared, aren't you? Alright then. Talk to my hand, Bron. He's had some ideas on how to protect the land and people here. The small house at the end of the path before the road." Em smiled.

"And talk to Elaina again for more we can do to help, yes?"

Dennet laughed, hearty and full from the chest, "Aye, I take it you've met her already. Go on and talk with her too. She'll point you in the right direction. While you're running about with the two of them, I'll speak to my girl, Seanna, and see about getting your party set up with some mounts for the ride back up to Haven. Might not be my best bunch, but they'll do the trick until I can sort out which will be best suited for the Inquisition work we've talked about. Once you've satisfied the wife, we'll discuss my coming up to settle them all in."

Em smiled brightly, "Ma serannas. We will do. Told Elaina but will tell you, too. Inquisition camp about three miles down towards King's Road. Speak with them if need anything." They stood from their seats and Em extended her hand to Dennet to shake. He took it firmly and she made sure to employ the strongest, steadiest handshake she'd ever given as they said their farewells.

She led the way out of the house and initiated conversation with Elaina again, making sure to get information about the wolves in the area, as well as the rift nearby, before the three then moved on to speak to Bron. He provided them with a rough map of the area and helped put markers on the map that Em and Lia had gotten from Harding that they could take back to start work on the towers. Em also made a note to see if there was a way they could spare weapons for the farmers in the area as additional protection. They didn't need soldiers stationed out there, necessarily—just the knowledge that they'd be able to see who was coming for them and the ability to reach out for help if they couldn't solve their problems themselves.

All in all, discussions with the residents of Dennet's land took the better part of the morning and the sun was high in the sky as they began to make their way back to camp to fill the others in and make the arrangements that they'd promised. For the most part, both Cassandra and Solas were quiet during their acquisition of questlines, only chiming in if they had relevant information or knowledge that Em had forgotten to mention, or helping when Em needed a word translation. Em didn't think anything of it until they were on their way back to camp and Cassandra broke out of her musing about halfway down the road.

"Lady Bl— Ashael," She began, but paused.

"Yes?" Em responded, turning to face Cassandra and walking backwards on the path. Cassandra looked deeply concerned but rallied to continue her thought.

"I wish to...I wish to apologize." Em cocked her head to the side at this, but waited for the other woman to continue, "I had...I had underestimated your abilities and I find myself shamed for having assumed you less capable than you clearly are. I will endeavor to not do so again."

Em blinked, slowing to a stop, which caused Cassandra and Solas to pause on the road as well. Solas was still quiet, not saying anything but observing the interaction keenly.

"Okay. Apology accepted," Em shrugged with a smile, "Even I didn't know it would go so well, din nuem sildearala." With that, Em turned back to the road to continue their journey—and if her steps were a little more lively, no one mentioned it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, Direct from Project Elvhen:
> 
> Iovro varem? - Bear gone?  
> Vin - Yeah  
> Ahn? Ahn ra? - What? What (is) it?  
> Mar veth’vallaslin! - Your back vallaslin!  
> Mar la’vallaslin! - Your arm vallaslin!  
> Mar tar’shol’lavin’vallaslin! - Your hip vallaslin!  
> Druast etunash. - Holy shit  
> Nere - Maybe  
> Telameren - bad dreams/nightmares (telam'era'en)  
> Ar abelas. - I(fem) sorry/I'm sorry  
> Nuva marshos lahnen ir teldara Fen’Harel - May the dread wolf never hear your footsteps  
> Dar’eth! - Farewell! Bye! (short for Dar'eth shiral)  
> Gerondirth - Price-talk, used as Negotiate here  
> Serannas - thanks  
> Ma serannas - thank you  
> din nuem sildearala. - No hard feelings


	10. Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang returns to Haven, Lia and Em have lots of conversations with people, and preparations for Val Royeaux are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is the last one for this round, and it'll be a while til the next chapters are ready. Ideally it'll be the end of this part but with the way my luck is going, this will grow exponentially and we'll never actually get around to recruiting the [spoilers]. 
> 
> Oh I shouldn't say that, that might make it true.
> 
> Anyway - as a treat this chapter is over 11k words. Buckle up y'all, might take a minute to read.
> 
> Text between the « and » is Elvhen. Translations courtesy of Project Elvhen (unless otherwise stated).

They ended up staying in the Hinterlands a total of two weeks in order to complete the different tasks they’d been sent on—or at least start on projects that could be finished without them. They had managed to get most things out of the way before they had even contemplated meeting Dennet, and his requests had been relatively easy considering how many steps Lia and Em had taken to get a head-start on them.

The journey back to Haven went quickly as they now had horses to ride, despite some trepidation on Lia's part. In the end, they'd decided the best way to travel was to have Lia ride with a more experienced rider in order to allow her time to become accustomed to riding in general. There were probably worse things in the world than holding onto Cassandra's waist as they rode through the landscape.

All in all, the journey that had originally taken them a week to complete by foot took them around three days on horseback. That said, they were all still rather tired of one another's company when they arrived back in the mountain village.

It made being approached by Mother Giselle and Leliana on entrance to the Chantry even more irritating than it should have been.

"Lady Herald, Lady Blade," Giselle greeted with a nod of her head in deference to the two elven women.

Lia fought back the grimace as she clenched her left fist. Covered by her glove, the mark was invisible to others and while it didn't hurt necessarily—at least when she wasn't using it to close a rift, anyway—she could still feel the phantom sensation of the foreign rift magic pulsing in her palm and up to her wrist. Despite wanting to do anything else, she smiled and greeted the two human women who had approached them, "Mother Giselle, Sister Leliana. All is well, I hope?"

The pointed use of Leliana's title as a sister of the Chantry mostly went unnoticed by anyone but Em and Leliana herself. Em knew Lia had quit using anything but nicknames and informal addresses for all the characters in the games _ages_ before Em had even dipped her big toe into the world of Thedas, and Leliana was well aware of both Lia and Em's distaste for their own titles and titles in general. The only outward sign that she had noticed Lia’s intention that Leliana allowed—and it was definitely allowed and not accidental—was a deferential tilt of her head towards Lia.

“Yes, Sahrena, all is currently well. Mother Giselle and I have already contacted several of the names she has provided to call together a gathering in Val Royeaux. Currently a date is set for two weeks from now, which will leave plenty of time for you to recover before traveling once more.” Both Lia and Em gave a visible sigh of relief at that, and Leliana allowed a look of amusement to cross her face. 

"Alright, we'll get settled back in. Can we gather everyone in the Chantry to debrief?" Lia asked.

"I will collect the others," Leliana nodded in acknowledgment and left. Mother Giselle stayed behind.

“It is good to see you both returned safely,” Giselle said, her smile genuine and kind, and Em almost felt guilty for the hard feelings she had towards the woman and her rather stringent Andrastian views. Almost.

“And you as well,” Lia said, with a smile that seemed almost as genuine. Almost.

Em and Lia had discussed their issues with the way the game handled the Chantry vs Any Other Belief System In Game Ever well before their arrival in Thedas. Their general consensus was that it was hamfisted at best and blatantly pro-Chantry at worst, with anyone who wanted to play as anything other than Andrastian given less-than stellar responses to the game’s conversation tracks or even having their beliefs (real or role-play) dismissed entirely. Which, you know, not _great_ but they both lived as alternatively spiritual-to-agnostic in the rural American South. They knew how to handle these conversations with a stiff upper lip, if nothing else.

“Travel was good?” Em added, trying to take some of the pressure off of Lia so she wouldn’t be the sole focus of Mother Giselle.

“Yes, thank you for asking.” Giselle turned her kind smile to Em and she immediately felt like she always did when confronted with older church ladies when visiting her home-parish for holidays. MIldly guilty and somehow lacking, which was, you know, not _great._

“And how are the people? Especially in the Crossroads and the Hinterlands, the ones you were helping before we left you?” Lia drew her attention now—it was like any of their fights in the Hinterlands, drawing aggro back and forth to keep the enemy from focusing too hard on either of them.

“The refugees in the Hinterlands are desperate. Without help, starvation or war will claim many lives.” Giselle said, solemnly.

_Great. Very cheerful and exactly the morale boost we needed,_ Em thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as she pasted on her cheeriest smile, “Hopefully the people we have set up in the area and the plans we have made to make the situation safer for all will help make things easier for them.” She spoke firmly and with conviction—though she tried her best not to sound agitated or irritable. Anger at the woman’s handling of the topic would not help them get through the conversation any easier.

“And have you had time to acclimate to the situation here in Haven, Mother Giselle?” Lia asked, glancing at Em pointedly—apparently her attempt at not sounding irritated had not worked as well as she’d hoped.

“Yes. The villagers here are terrified. Many of them came here because the war between the Mages and the Templars destroyed their homes. In their minds, the death of the Divine has destroyed any chance of peace. To that, add the Breach. Farmers have fled their fields. If we do not restore order half of Thedas may starve.”

Did this woman have nothing _positive_ to say about the situation? At _all?_ Em fumed with her plastic smile pasted over her face.

“Do you have any suggestions on how best to help the villagers and refugees feel more safe or comfortable—aside from the obvious closing of the Breach?” Lia asked, a hint of aggravation slipping into her own voice as she spoke.

Giselle tilted her head to the side and looked upwards to the ceiling of the Chantry as she thought, “You have made an excellent point—identifying the problems can only go so far.” She nodded finally, “I have not made an effort to think of possible solutions yet, and I apologize for this. I will consider our resources and options and if you would keep these people in your minds and prayer— ah, in your minds while you work, we can discuss solutions at a later point, perhaps?” Em and Lia didn’t point out Giselle’s slip and correction, instead choosing to focus on her acknowledgement that she was incredibly unhelpful with the doom and gloom talk.

“Of course, Mother Giselle. We’ll definitely bring the concerns to the others in order to best use our resources to assist as many as we are able to.” Em nodded as Lia spoke, and Giselle gave them another smile, this one possibly more subdued than the others she’d given them, though she hadn’t exactly been grinning and mirthful when they’d been approached. 

“Thank you both. Andraste...Maker— ah...I find I do not know what to say. I have not worked closely with the Dalish before.”

Em took point, “Farewell works, or tuelanen ama na—uh...Sahrena?” 

“‘Creators protect you.’ It’s very formal, so if you would prefer, ‘Dareth shiral’ works as well.” Lia said, with a smile. Tension eased from both of their shoulders as they realized maybe they would be able to work with the Chantry, or at least Mother Giselle, without having to feel like they were being worked on to be converted.

“‘Go safe on journey,’” Em translated, haltingly. Lia smiled and nodded at her when she glanced over for confirmation.

“I will keep those in mind. Thank you, again. You have given me much to reflect on and taught me new things today.” Giselle gave a small deferential nodding bow of her head as Leliana returned, trailing Cassandra and Josephine behind her.

“Cullen will be joining us as soon as he has dismissed the soldiers from training,” Cassandra explained, looking flushed and a little sweaty. 

Em cleared her throat and shifted as she tried not to stare. Apparently Cassandra had also decided to go straight into training, herself. “Right, yes. Good. Will catch him up when gets here,” She murmured, gesturing to the war room. 

Lia rolled her eyes with a fond smile, “«Come on you big disaster bi.»” She teased, taking Em’s elbow and linking their arms as the group headed towards the back room where they generally held their meetings.

“«Like you’re one to talk!»” Em squawked, mock offended as a flush rose to her cheeks and spread up her ears, “«A certain author and a specific Antivan come to mind!»”

Lia’s blush flooded to match Em’s as they broke into giggles, the tension of travel and the confrontation with Giselle finally releasing and letting them relax a little. Sure they had to work out some of the details of what they’d set into motion in the Hinterlands with people who barely got along on the best of days, but at least they had each other.

* * *

Em meandered the training grounds, watching the soldiers sparring with one another. She recognized a few of them and nodded as she passed when their gazes met, but otherwise tried her best not to distract them. She heard Cullen calling out over the group and Meg’s voice in counterpoint to it, correcting or berating the soldiers goodnaturedly when applicable.

Off to the side, by herself, attacking a training dummy with great force, was Cassandra. She swung into the stationary mannequin and her sword thwacked into it with a heavy thud, belying the strength behind the blow as the woman moved with ease and grace. Em’s breath caught in her chest for a moment as she watched.

It was difficult to keep an eye on everyone in the heat of battle, so she hadn’t exactly observed Cassandra in action before—not outside of the necessary ‘this is where everyone is, this is how I can assist the’ thoughts her brain provided her in the moment, anyway. Cassandra certainly was a force to be reckoned with.

Cassandra landed another devastating blow on the dummy and let out a disgusted scoff. Em approached as she seemed to take a moment to center herself.

“You are very impressive,” She said, making sure to approach from Cassandra’s line of sight so as not to startle the other woman. Em had learned the hard way with Meg that she was incredibly quiet on the approach—having accidentally snuck up on the former guardsman a few times, which had landed her with a blow to the chestplate too many times to not have learned her lesson.

“You flatter me,” Cassandra scoffed, sounding unconvinced.

Em shook her head, “Is no flatter. Is truth.”

Cassandra huffed, her cheeks pink from exertion as she reset her stance and went back in on the dummy. Em stood a careful distance away and watched. A few more blows and Cassandra stepped back again, breathing hard and glaring at the dummy. They stood in silence before Cassandra looked to Em and then up to the Breach behind her with a quiet, almost sad, sigh, “Did I do the right thing?”

Em cocked her head to the side, “What mean?”

“What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I revered my whole life. One day, they might write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool. And they may be right.”

Em rolled her eyes with a scoff, “That is they. Who is ‘they’? ‘They’ may write Sahrena and me as humans who love Andraste and have our whole lives. ‘They’ is does not matter.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“You clearly have not been listening to Lady Josephine.” Cassandra said, a wry smile on her face, though she seemed a little less upset by the topic than she had when she’d brought it up.

Em shrugged, “I listen. I understand most. But is no consequence. ‘They’ will do what ‘they’ want. What do _you_ feel?”

“It is...difficult to determine how I feel about this.” Cassandra admitted, shaking her head and resetting her stance, aiming at the dummy again. Em stepped forward and caught her elbow.

“No dummy. Spar with me?” She offered, gesturing to the ring nearby. Cassandra gave a grateful little smile and they walked over together, circling around one another as Em stretched and prepared herself to go up against the force of nature that was Cassandra Eight-hundred-middle-names Pentaghast.

“Work out how feel while fight. Tell me what thoughts are.” Em said, finally settling into one of the stances she tended to favor when sparring against Meg. She saw Cassandra’s eyes narrow in on her feet, compensating her own stance to match.

“Alright. I believe you and Lady Sahrena had no hand in the explosion at the Conclave.” They traded blows in a quick flurry, Em’s daggers flashing in the sunlight as Cassandra swung her blade to parry each of her slashes and stabs, “I believe more is going on here than we can see.” Cassandra spun herself around in a flourish that unbalanced Em, who was aiming for where she had been—damn, Meg had warned her to watch what her opponent’s feet were doing to anticipate shit like that. “And I believe no one else cares to do anything about it.” Em laughed at that, performing her own twirl under Cassandra’s elbow like a spin in a dance, poking her side gently with the flat of her blade. Cassandra grunted, shoving her elbow back behind her into Em’s ribcage, and they broke apart, standing at opposite ends of the ring again, “They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot.”

“That is their problem,” Em rebutted, “Cannot fix stupid.”

Cassandra laughed, wiping her brow as they circled one another, planning their next moves. Em tried a tactic she’d only successfully pulled off a couple of times against some of the less experienced soldiers and once against Meg—who she was pretty sure had allowed her the success rather than Em acquiring it honestly. She feinted left, swinging wide with her right-hand blade as she dipped into a roll forwards. Cassandra was quick and deftly moved out of the way of Em’s left blade that aimed for her greaves rather than her kneecaps in the spirit of the sparring session, stepping gently on Em’s sleeve that was loose because she hadn’t actually intended to fight today. She could pull away but risked tearing her shirt, and Cassandra’s blade was now pointed at her neck. Both breathed heavily and had big grins on their faces.

“Yield.” Em conceded, dropping her weapons and holding her hands flat, her fingers outstretched. Cassandra held her sword in position a moment more before pulling it away carefully and sheathing it, extending a hand to help Em up. Em dusted herself off and picked up her knives, wiping them down before putting them away.

“I wonder, though, if this is the Maker’s will? I can only guess.” Cassandra finished, the slightly sad tone back in her voice.

Em shrugged, “Does it matter?” Cassandra looked mildly affronted and opened her mouth to respond. Em shook her head and continued, “From what I know, Maker doesn’t tend to work in the world. So maybe he wills whatever, maybe he doesn’t. Doesn’t matter. We’re here. We can do or not do. That’s what matters.”

Cassandra closed her mouth and looked thoughtful. “I suppose you have a point. I do not know that I agree, but for now the outcome looks the same. We must deal with the Chantry’s panic over you before they do even more harm. Then we close the Breach. We are the only ones who can. After that, we find out who is responsible for this chaos, and we end them. And if there are consequences to be paid for what I have done, I pay them. I only pray the price is not too high.”

Em shrugged again, glancing up at the Breach. It still gave her a sense of vertigo to stare at too long, but she could usually push through it at least a little, “Bit late to worry.” She finally said, tearing her gaze away from the sky.

Cassandra scoffed, shaking her head, and changed the subject a little, “My trainers always said, ‘Cassandra you are too brash. You must think before you act.’ I see what must be done and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. But I misjudged you both in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again.”

“So don’t.” Em said, “And if it happens, it happens. Is only person. Can only do what person can do.”

“You make an excellent argument, Lady Ashael.”

Em scrubbed the back of her neck with a crooked grin and a flush on her face, “Ah, you know me. Good with argue, not so good with compliment.”

Cassandra let out a surprised sounding laugh, “I suppose we share that in common.”

“Good, look forward to argue and compliment with you more often, then,” Em winked a little. Cassandra snorted, rolling her eyes and gently shoving Em’s shoulder. Em allowed herself to be pushed harder than she actually was and squealed as if she’d been startled or actually thrown off balance, “Hey!”

They shared a chuckle and began pulling themselves together, heading up towards the stairs back into Haven proper. As they reached the narrow road leading around the village, Cassandra paused, turning to Em, “You’ve said you don’t believe you’re chosen. Does that mean… you also don’t believe in the Maker?”

Em gave her a confused look—it wasn’t like she or Lia had made it a secret they _really_ did not believe the Maker was a real deity, or whatever, “No?”

“No you don’t believe in the Maker or no you don’t not believe in the Maker?” Cassandra attempted to get Em to clarify, before realising how confusing her own statement had been and grimacing.

Em laughed a little, “Why would believe in Maker? Am Dalish”

“And there’s no room among your gods for one more?” Cassandra asked.

Em closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, letting out a heavy sigh through her nose, “Does Chantry have room for all Dalish Gods with Maker?” She asked, softly.

Cassandra looked offended, “No, of course not.”

“So why would Dalish have room for Maker?” Em pointed out.

“But you already—”

“No, Cassandra. Just because already has many does not mean there is room for more.” She shook her head, “If no room in Chantry for more than Maker, then how can Maker leave room for all Dalish creators when added to them?” She cocked her head to the side, watching Cassandra’s reaction.

The warrior looked frustrated, eventually throwing her hands up with a scoff. “I...don’t know that I understand,” She finally admitted.

“Is okay. Maybe discuss later.” Em said, not really looking forward to having the discussion at all, let alone however many times she’d end up having to defend the religion of a people she only really knew through video games. Any knowledge she had of the Creators and the Dalish way of life outside of her knowledge of the Lore of the game came from her Thedas Instinct and even that left her wanting more information. Apparently Thedas-Em also didn’t really care for deities in general, instead focusing on the philosophies and principles they were meant to embody.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” Cassandra sighed, “I have to believe we were put on this path for a reason, even if you do not. Now it simply remains to see where it leads us.”

“Hey, no one said I didn’t believe was for a reason.” Em said, “Just different idea of where reason comes from.”

Cassandra nodded, with a small smile, “You are right. Just because we do not agree on who set us on our path, does not mean we are not on the same path now.”

“Exactly! Same path.” Em nodded, grinning as she referenced the meme from Earth. It was a shame Lia wasn’t around to appreciate it.

“Same path.” Cassandra agreed, accidentally falling into delivery of the meme, which caused Em to break out into giggles, leaving a confused, but ultimately fond, Cassandra staring at her and shaking her head with a small smile on her own face.

* * *

Lia hummed to herself as she meandered through the Chantry. She was holding some mail from Leliana’s tent, which she had offered to deliver to Josephine—its intended recipient—on Leliana’s behalf. She came to the door to what Josephine had claimed as her office and knocked before opening it.

“Josephine, it’s me,” She announced as she entered the room to find Josephine standing in the middle of it, arguing with a man in ostentatious and kind of ridiculous clothing and a yellow mask.

“The Inquisition cannot remain, Ambassador,” The man was shouting as Lia entered, closing the door softly behind herself as she pressed into the wall. She had wondered when the Orlesian who claimed to own Haven would show up, “if you can’t prove it was founded on Justinia’s orders.”

Josephine countered, her voice politely sharp, “This is an inopportune time, Marquis. More of the faithful flock here each day.” Her gaze passed over where Lia was standing, clutching the letters to her chest as she watched with anxious eyes. She didn’t enjoy conflict on the best days and watching two people get into an argument nearly had her leaving the room to let them have at it on their own, but she wanted to make sure the mail got dropped off and, if she were to be honest with herself, she kind of enjoyed watching Josephine tearing down nobles with her diplomacy.

“But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked her life to slow the magic of the Breach.” Josephine drew the Marquis’ attention to Lia, who fought the urge to try and blend in with the stone wall, “Mistress Sahrena Lavellan, this is the Marquis DuRellion, one of the Divine Justinia’s greatest supporters.”

DuRellion jumped in immediately as Josephine finished the introduction, “And the rightful owner of Haven. House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This ‘Inquisition’ is not a beneficiary of this arrangement.”

Lia cleared her throat gently, “As I understand it, the Inquisition was founded on Justinia’s orders. Not only that, but the Chantry is doing nothing to help the faithful who are injured or displaced—and on top of all of this, is a giant hole in the sky that’s spitting out demons really less important than land claims?”

Josephine winced a little and Lia shot her an apologetic glance. This was really not Lia’s forte, but also, was she _wrong?_

“I…” DuRellion sighed, shaking his head a little.

“We face a dark time, Your Grace. Divine Justinia would not want her passing to divide us. She would, in fact, trust us to forge new alliances to the benefit of all, no matter how strange they might seem.” Josephine jumped on his faltering.

“I would be happy to work with you, Marquis DuRellion, to find a use of the land that benefits us both, but we cannot turn people out into the cold…” Lia said, softly, hoping she was making the right choice in saying something additional.

“I’ll think on it, Lady Montilyet, Mistress Lavellan. The Inquisition...might stay in the meanwhile.”

“Thank you, Marquis DuRellion,” Lia said, earnestly. He glanced at her and then at Josephine, who gave him a small smile, before shaking his head and rubbing the forehead of his mask.

“I will be in touch, Lady Montilyet.” He said, before leaving.

As the door closed behind him, Josephine let out a soft sigh, shaking her own head and making several notes on her clipboard.

“Sorry about that, Josephine.” Lia said, stepping away from the wall finally and extending the letters towards her, “I was just trying to make sure you got the mail—I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You did little harm. In truth, the debate was most beneficial as practice for those to come.” Josephine said, her smile gentle but genuine as she took the letters from Lia and glanced through them. Her eyebrows raised and lowered at a couple of the names as she made a tsking noise to herself, “Perhaps sooner than even I anticipated,” She intoned, making her way to her desk and settling down. “Each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart. An ambassador should ensure the tale is as complimentary as possible.”

“I have complete faith in you, Josephine.” Lia said, smiling at her.

“As well you should, I come very highly recommended. I believe Leliana may be able to procure those letters of recommendation for you if you wish to review them,” Josephine said, matter-of-factly.

Lia laughed a little, “That’s not necessary. I know you’re good at what you do. We’re lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you. Let us hope so. Thedas’ politics have become… agitated as of late. I hope to guide us down smoother paths.” Josephine said, a pleased flush crossing her face as she looked down at the work she needed to get done.

“I shouldn’t keep you long, I know you’re very busy.” Lia said, tapping the desk a little as she leaned away and went to leave.

“Oh, you need not leave yet, my lady.” Josephine said, quickly, “I actually wished to ask you a few questions.”

Lia raised her eyebrow but turned back to the desk, leaning against it with her hip and crossing her arms, “Oh?”

“I should like to know if anyone here has treated you or Lady Blad— ah...Lady Ashael unkindly, Heral— ahem, Lady Sahrena. For being elves.”

Lia grimaced. She remembered the talk the two of them had before leaving for the Hinterlands almost a month ago and how Em had expressed that people didn’t take her seriously, but she didn’t know exactly how bad it was and Em hadn’t said anything about it further, even in the week since they’d returned to Haven.

“I see.” Josephine said, her voice clipped and terse, “I shall make a note—”

“I don’t know how bad it is.” Lia interrupted her, before wincing again, “They haven’t said anything around me about it, but…” She sighed, frowning and chewing on her lower lip, shifting uncomfortably. Em had asked her not to say anything about it, to let her handle it on her own, but... 

“But?” Josephine prompted, looking concerned.

Lia sighed again, “Ashael mentioned that there’ve been...attitudes. Around her. Directed at her. Nothing...outright malicious that she let on about, but she might not have told me everything. She’s struggled with learning the language—well, actually she’s become really good at it in a startlingly short amount of time,” Lia corrected herself, “But people don’t see that, they see a Dalish elf who can’t speak Trade well, and… She said she’s been belittled and patronized a fair amount. They haven’t done it around me, but Em said that it seems like they respect me more.” 

Lia groaned a little and glanced up to the ceiling before continuing, “A couple of the guilty parties are people we’ve been working closely with. Like…” _Ugh_ she did _not_ want to be saying all of this but she needed to. If anyone could handle this, it was Josephine. It would...hopefully…be worth breaking Em’s trust on this one, “Like Varric sometimes—though he’s getting a little better. And Solas mainly. Solas was actually… he was the tipping point for Ashael getting frustrated enough to tell me about it. She didn’t say anything until right before we left for the Hinterlands,” She hurried to say, as Josephine looked more and more upset by the prospect of one of them being denied the respect that she felt was their due, “And she asked me not to say anything about it, let her handle it. She’d just come back from an argument with Solas when she mentioned it to me, and I figured it was probably best to let her cool off before we discussed it again, but then we were travelling and she asked me not to say anything but it’s...it shouldn’t be happening.” Lia said it all in a rush, like if she didn’t get it all out, it wasn’t going to be said—which might have been true. 

She went on, “She...probably would have gone on not saying anything if I hadn’t been up and bored with research on the Hinterlands when she got back.” Lia admitted, flushing a little and rubbing her brow. “Ashael said it doesn’t bother her so much that Varric does it, but if everyone is acting that way towards her, and then he’s just adding on top of that no matter how good-natured it is…” Lia shrugged, “I told her I would let her handle it, but...I don’t know how else to handle this other than confront it and I _definitely_ don’t want to do that.” Lia tried to keep the whine out of her voice as she sagged against the desk a little. Fuck did she hate this kind of thing.

Josephine looked solemn and nodded, quickly jotting something down on her notepad, “I see. Please let me know if this changes. It would be best to not allow this to go further, but I do not wish to step on the Lady— ah...On Mistress Ashael’s toes. And I do not believe you would have told me if I had not read your facial expression and said something.”

Lia winced again, “You’re right.”

“Never play Wicked Grace, my lady.” Josephine teased, lightening the mood, “As it is, I will keep an ear out for anything said about the Lady— Ashael. If we are to convince the world that Andraste’s Herald and the Maker’s Blade are elves, the Inquisition must give you both its utmost support.” She sighed, “Stories of wild Dalish elves have grown even more outrageous as people learn of you.”

“If they have, they haven’t said it around me, and it’s possible Ashael wouldn’t have known they were doing it. She’s gotten a lot better at Trade since we left, but it’s possible some phrases might get missed.” Lia sighed, frowning. It made her heart hurt to realize that Em might be facing negative attitudes for things outside of her control and not even knowing it was going on, though their conversation had implied that Em realized it was happening more than she could understand what was being said. “How bad are these stories, anyway?”

Josephine looked distinctly uncomfortable, “I would...prefer _not_ to repeat them.”

That didn’t bode well. “Can you give me...any kind of idea? It’d be nice to not be blindsided by it in the greater world if someone gets brave and stupid enough to say something in front of me or Ashael.” Lia asked, already regretting the decision.

Josephine sighed and began, reluctantly, “Stealing children, selling peasants to slavers, burning down villages, using infants for blood magic…” She sounded like she was reading off a grocery list and less like she was recounting stories she’d overheard. Lia closed her eyes as Josephine went on, “Those are stories about your fellow Dalish. I will not repeat what they’ve said about you.”

Lia gave a soft, high-pitched grunt of acknowledgement and dismay, “Ah. Gotcha.” She ran a hand over her face and kind of felt like she wanted to cry. What the _hell?_ “Great.” It was decidedly _not_ great, “And the magic I bet doesn’t help. Or the fact that Ashael is a hunter who relies on stealth rather than power.” She suddenly put a couple of points together and fought the despair that threatened to rise up inside of her. 

“It...depends on the way the wind is blowing.” Josephine admitted, “‘Magic is meant to serve man’ the Chant teaches. Close the Breach and we can claim _that_ is why Andraste chose you.”

“And Ashael?” Lia shook her head, “I can’t imagine her particular skills and talents will reflect well in the public eye if they already think the worst of the Dalish in general.”

Josephine shook her head, “Thankfully—unfortunately, perhaps—Lady Ashael’s more mundane talents will be easier to spin in our favor. The Bl—ah...her feats in defeating rather impressive enemies single handedly will work out rather well for her, I believe. And hopefully it will all be enough to replace this... _gossip_ about the Dalish,” she scoffed a little on the word gossip.

“It’s...so frustrating that these people will lash out at us when we’ve done nothing against them but attempt to survive!” Lia sighed with frustration, “We want to preserve our heritage and we get captured, killed, tortured and sold into slavery for more of the same—our people are wiped out, and forced to assimilate or live on the fringes of the world and there’s _nothing_ we can do about it!” Her voice rose as she began to pace with the energy behind her ire. It wasn’t _fair._ She might not _really_ be Dalish but she could feel some of the struggles that whatever it was that Sahrena had learned of—or even had gone through herself—meant to someone who grew up Dalish, knew of the Dalish, _was_ Dalish. “The Dirthavhen were promised land and it was taken away from us, we were forced out of our home and into the wilds and they want to blame us for the stories they tell to make us scarier!” She threw her hands up in disgust, making a rough noise of frustration as she continued pacing. “And that was _after_ we were cast to the edges of society when Arlathan fell because some _idiot_ decided that there was no other fucking way to fix society than to tear the _entire world to pieces.”_

Josephine made a small noise of assent, “I’ll admit to a lack of familiarity with the history of the Elvhen and the Dalish, but you are justified in your anger, my Lady.” Lia stopped mid-stride and ran her fingers through her hair, dislodging several strands from the updo. “I will see what the Inquisition can do to contain the slander. It…” Josephine paused for a moment as she seemed to consider her words, “may help if I know more about how you and your clan live.”

Lia exhaled, allowing the tension to drain from her body like a deflating balloon, “Alright. What do you think would be most helpful?”

“How about you—your position with the clan, Lady Her— Hmm,” Josephine caught herself again, “I do apologize, I understand you both do not enjoy the titles, but in order to best communicate your importance outside of the Inquisition—and even inside it to some degree—I must continue to use them on occasion. I ask only your forgiveness while I work to address you and Lady Ashael as you have requested.”

Lia smiled, “That you’re making an effort means a lot, Josie— ah, Josephine.” Lia blushed brightly, “I’m so sorry.”

Josephine let out a tiny giggle, “I see you have been listening to Leliana! Truly I do not mind, as long as we are not in the presence of anyone of note—and other than you and myself, I see none here,” She winked at Lia with a grin showing off her slightly gap-toothed smile.

Lia’s smile grew wider and she leaned into the table, “Alright then, Josie. What was the question you had?”

“I understand that Dalish clans like to...limit the number of mages per clan—” Lia scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Where the _fuck_ did that rumor come from anyway?” She muttered to herself.

“So that is...not the case?”

“I don’t know about individual cases but even Ashael will tell you that we don’t abandon our own— _especially_ not our mages.” Lia was very proud of her ability to keep the surprise at the _truth_ of her statement from showing on her face as she spoke. There she was, tapping into the Thedas Instinct again. It didn’t get any less weird to access a whole different person’s memories, but it was kind of helpful. Especially right now. “We might...obfuscate our numbers. The erelan are not all cut out to be Keepers and Firsts. I have a knack for researching and remembering information, as well as copying it down again. I’m not a bad hand at telling an interesting story, either. History is far easier to pass down to younger generations if they’re interested in the story you’re telling as much as the information you’re giving them.”

_Sitting by the fireside, listening to the hahrenen bicker over details of clan-based stories, and then to the Keeper telling stories of the Ancient Elvhen and the time before the Dales and their history, leading to where they were now. Captivated by the images woven by the storytellers, learning to tell the stories herself, learning the facts behind the history. Arlathvhens, the gathering of the people as she started her apprenticeship under Keeper Istimaethoriel with the other hopefuls for the positions of First, Second, and Third. Learning other clans’ histories and their knowledge, rounding out the stories of her childhood, building the worlds and images she saw bigger and brighter and more real. Coming home to talk with the other young mages, sharing what she’d learned, writing it all down in the journals the Keeper provided for her._

_The trials to become First—competing against her fellow mages, wondering if she’d get one of the coveted positions directly in line to succeed the Clan Leader when Istimae chose to retire her position or passed on into the Beyond. Doing her best but also working so hard to make sure others were not left too far behind—when they struggled, she helped them, carrying them on to the finish despite everything. Making sure everyone had a chance, that Istimae had to work hard to choose which one was her successor._

_Istimaethoriel told her later it was her actions to make the playing field so even that made it so the Keeper didn’t even have to decide which would be her successor._

“Those who don’t make it to become First, Second, or Third in line to become Keeper usually take up other positions in our clan. We trade lethallen when others need more mages, actually. Usually at the Arlathvhens, where we all gather to trade information.” Lia continued with her explanation, the rush of memories still washing over her as she spoke. It was distracting but not so much so that she couldn’t push through it.

“I see! That is very interesting. Unfortunately it would seem there are a few clans who do not treat their mages so well—one of the circle mages we have assisting us—”

Lia closed her eyes against the frustration and pain, “Minaeve, yes? We met her. She’s a lovely young woman. Circle raised, never went through her harrowing—protected the Tranquil, yes?” Lia opened her eyes as she spoke, a tight smile on her face, “I have yet to speak with her on the subject of her upbringing.”

“It seems the young woman was from a Dalish clan who, unfortunately, left her to the wild when her magic manifested,” Josephine explained, though her tone was cautious and held a note of skepticism.

“Then I’d like to know which clan that was and send a letter to my Keeper so that we can address what they’re doing to their mages. If they had whatever ‘too many’ means, they could have had another clan come and get her, or find someone at the next Arlathvhen,” or the Travelling Keepers could have come for her—but Lia knew that was information that was not allowed for outsiders, “There are _no_ clans that I know of that would have left an otherwise defenceless child out in the wilderness simply because they had _magic.”_ Lia scoffed with a slight sneer. She had always hated that particular conversation with Minaeve because it never made sense anyway—but now she was extra mad about it because _she knew it was false._ Deep in the very heart of her soul she knew that there was no clan she’d ever come in contact with who would leave a child on their own.

Josephine jotted something down, “Understood, my lady. It may be beneficial for you both to meet at a later time and have a conversation about that. Perhaps...Lady Ashael would be...best suited doing something else at that time?”

Lia shook her head, “The only reason Ashael would be inappropriate for that conversation is due to her limited—but growing—knowledge of Trade. If anything, having someone back up my points and reassuring Minaeve that what she went through was not common would be beneficial to the situation.” 

Josephine nodded, scratched something out and wrote some more things down, “I see. Perhaps we can get something scheduled for the three of you after your return from Val Royeaux.”

“I would very much appreciate the ability to talk with Minaeve about this. It hurts to think she’s lived her whole life thinking she was unwanted like that.” Lia shook her head, “If I ever find out which clan it was…” She muttered darkly, a few sparks of electricity clicking to life from her fingertips where they rested on her crossed arms. She shook herself from her anger and returned her attention back to Josephine, “Sorry, that was...a bit of a tangent. My clan was not much different from other clans in the way we handled our magic users. Not everyone is cut out to be a potential Keeper, so many will become hunters, or weavers, or crafters, or hearthkeepers—even our Halla’amelanen, er…” Lia searched her brain for the term in Trade, suddenly realizing exactly what Em’s day to day life trying to converse was like. She’d have to give her friend a big hug when she saw her next, “Halla keepers. Our halla keepers can sometimes also have a way with magic—I understand it helps them understand the halla better, but I didn’t really have a knack for that kind of magic.” Lia shrugged.

“That is fascinating!” Josephine was leaning forward, resting her chin on her hands as she listened, “So your mages are integrated into daily life? I am unfamiliar with the schools of magic outside of very basic knowledge, but I never considered using magic within the routine of day-to-day living.”

Lia smiled, “I only know a little about the schools of magic as a concept,” She realized as she spoke that, again, it was true. She technically knew about how they worked in the games, but not how they would be practically applied now that she was in Thedas itself. She only knew that her own magic came to her naturally, easily, without even thinking about it, “But we don’t teach them as ‘schools’ necessarily. They’re just...hm...Like this.” Lia waved her hand a little more deliberately than she would have if she weren’t trying to demonstrate the skill. As she did so, the candle on Josephine’s desk snuffed out with no trace of the candle having even been lit just the moment before. There was no smoke rising from it, and Lia knew if she touched the wick it would be cool to the touch. The only proof that the fire had even been there was that the wax was still wet in the well caused by the heat. Josephine watched with astonishment as Lia flicked her hand a little and the flame came back, as if it hadn’t been extinguished at all. 

“That is... _extraordinary.”_ Josephine breathed. Lia grinned big at her excitement over such a small gesture.

“That was nothing. You should see what we do for celebrations.” She giggled a little at the memory of sparkling lights exploding way too close to the ground, some taking shapes in the air and moving like physical beings, illusions and light playing together to amuse and delight the crowd gathered below for the naming day, the marriage, the successful hunt, whatever it might be. A bit like fireworks set off unprofessionally and Bilbo Baggins’ eleventy-first birthday smooshed together into one. An image of Em crowded up next to her, both delighted and terrified at once as she covered her ears and tucked herself closer into Lia as the erelan who were in charge of the display continued to cast bigger and more intricate illusions, ramping up until the finale.

“Oh I would very much like to see one, one day.” Josephine sighed, wistfully, her chin back in her palms as she smiled at Lia.

“But yeah...Like I said, magic’s pretty intrinsic to daily life. Our halla’amelanen tend to use their magic more for communication with the halla, and for keeping them safe and healthy as we travel. Hunters will use magic to aid their successes and navigate the wilderness when they’re away from the camp. The drivers of the aravels can use it to avoid major incidents when we’re on the road, limiting the number of broken wheels we have to stop and fix while we travel. Speaking of which, many of our craftspeople use magic to help them fix and maintain our aravels, the sails, the harnesses for the halla, our weapons and tools, anything really. There’s at least one low-level magic user in any position within the clan.” Lia shrugged, “Not many people outside the Dalish know that, for obvious reasons.” She said, sighing a little sadly, “We keep on the move not only because we have no land of our own and because we are constantly seeking out knowledge of the time before the Dales, of Arlathan, but also because if we were to stay too close to human cities, our mages are in more danger of being forcibly taken by the Templars to the Circles. Or worse, killed.” Josephine’s expression fell serious as she nodded.

“That...does make sense,” She said. “This information will...be kept between you and I, and I will work around the details to make sure that the more mundane aspects of life in a Dalish clan are what is communicated with the world, as opposed to the more sensitive, magical aspects.” As she spoke, Josephine jotted down further notes on her pad. “It must be difficult to be so far from your family—Leliana mentioned you traveled the Marches?”

Lia nodded, “We did—they do. And…” She thought on it for a moment, her head tilting to the side as she considered her thoughts and feelings. She didn’t know her clan—not really. Sahrena did, but Lia wasn’t Sahrena and couldn’t...she didn’t have a connection to those people. Except...she was far from her family. A universe away, with no method of contact to them. And she did miss them, yes, “I do miss my family. It’s...hard. Here. I can’t really…” She shrugged, “I can’t put it into words.”

Which was true—it was difficult to explain that while everything she’d told Josephine about living as a Dalish elf in Thedas was _true,_ it wasn’t _her_ truth necessarily. She didn’t live in a clan of elves hunting and gathering to survive on the edges of civilization. She lived in a small house with some roommates and was able to travel to see her mother and father on occasion. She didn’t even see Em all that often outside of a video feed on occasion.

“I understand,” Josephine said, “I too find it difficult to be far from my family—Haven is so remote and different from what I am used to, it has been...an adjustment.”

“I can imagine. If you would like, I’d love to hear about your family as well,” Lia offered, leaning once more on Josephine’s desk with her hip.

Josephine smiled, ducking her head a little, “That is...most appreciated, Lady Hera— Sahrena,” she said, softly. “Perhaps another time. I...I have some things I must attend to, but I would very much like to speak with you at a later date, perhaps less formally?”

Lia smiled widely, “Oh, absolutely. I’d love that, Josie.”

Josephine’s own smile grew as she glanced back up at Lia, “I do apologize for cutting our conversation short, Sahrena.”

Lia waved her hand dismissively—almost the exact same gesture she’d used to extinguish and relight the candle, “No worries, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. Let me or Ashael know if you ever need a hand.” She stepped away from Josephine’s desk as she spoke.

“I will do so, Lady Sahrena. Thank you.”

“Any time! See you later,” Lia waved as she reached the door. 

Josephine gave a small wave back, an amused smile crossing her face. “Farewell, Lady Herald,” she said before turning back to the mail Lia had delivered and the paperwork already piling up around the desk as Lia left.

* * *

Em nodded to people as she passed them on her way to the Chantry for yet _another_ meeting about how to behave in Val Royeaux. Lia wasn’t getting nearly as many talks about etiquette and decorum as she was and it rankled a little. As she crossed near the tent where Leliana collected her information and held meetings with her scouts, she heard rhythmic speech coming from the dark corner in the back. At first glance the tent seemed empty but as Em’s eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the tent, she caught the hooded figure of Leliana kneeling on a small mat, her hands clasped in front of her in prayer.

“Blessed are the peace-keepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood, the Maker’s will is written.” There was a slight pause in the rhythm, and Leliana’s voice turned from recitation to quiet inquiry, “Is that what you want from us? Blood? To die so that Your will is done? Is death Your only blessing?” She straightened a little and turned to Em as though she’d known that the elf had been standing there already. She probably had, if Em really thought about it, “You and your companion speak for Andraste, no? What does the Maker’s prophet have to say about all of this? What’s His game?”

Em’s eyebrows raised as Leliana’s tone turned accusatory. She shrugged.

“Do you see the sky?” Leliana continued, “What about the temple ruins? The bones lying in the dust?” She glanced away and then turned back to Em, “Even if you didn’t support the Divine’s peace, you wouldn’t call this right. Who could?” She turned away, towards what Em could now see was a small altar in the back corner of the tent, “So many innocent lives— the faithful murdered where the holiest of holies once stood. If the Maker willed this, what is it if not a game or a cruel joke?” She turned back to Em, a sneer on her face as she spoke.

“Okay, don’t appreciate the imply that I am against peace.” Em said, holding her hands up defensively, “Also don’t like imply that I did not see the destruction. Was there. Walked through it. Was not a fan.” She shook her head, “Is very sad thing, the Conclave destroyed. But is not the fault of people here. Is not your fault.”

Leliana scoffed, her sneer turning to a snarl briefly as she turned back to her altar, “I did not say I thought it was my fault.”

“But might need to hear it anyway.” Em shrugged again, lowering her hands as she shifted her weight, not wanting to approach Leliana without permission but also not having been dismissed, “I speak for no one but me. And not very well,” She gave a wry smile and a little chuckle to try and lighten the mood, “Sahrena does not have answers, either. No one has answers right now. That’s why it hurts so much.”

Leliana swallowed, the sound audible from even as far apart as they were, even as loud as the rest of Haven was around them. It looked like it was painful for her, and Em was sympathetic. She didn’t know anyone in the Conclave who died. But Leliana had lost a trusted friend and confidant—and the leader of her religion—all in one sweeping blow.

“Look...I don’t believe in the Maker, I don’t know what the point of it is. I don’t know what Andraste could or would do in this situation. All I know is that the people here? The people living right now, in the middle of all of this? They need those of us who survived. They need strength and compassion in equal measure. They need us to be who they look towards. Which sucks, cause who do we look to? Maybe we look to ourselves.” Em sighed, “If Maker is real, maybe instead of being far away, he is in everything around us? Maker’s actions in the way Cassandra and Cullen and Meg work with the soldiers, the way Adan makes potions and heals wounds even though he hates it, in the way that Varric always tells jokes even though sometimes maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe Maker is in the doubt you have. I don’t know,” Em shrugged again, scrubbing the back of her neck with a grimace, “Been long time since I believe in anything seriously enough. Creators are in different parts of daily life, maybe Maker is too?”

Leliana blinked at Em, her face falling neutral, which Em decided meant she wasn’t nearly as angry as before—that or she was now incandescently angry and Em would end up with a knife in her sternum in a moment. “You say you believe that the Maker is...in all things?” She said it softly, almost...afraid wasn’t the word, but like a child asking a trusted adult if what they were saying was true, a hopefulness that seemed so unsteady that it would crumble if Em said the wrong thing.

“I mean, I don't believe in Maker at all, but maybe.” Another shrug, “Faith is hard. Gotta believe in things that can’t be proven is real and can’t be proven is not real. But...maybe parts is real. Maybe all is real. Maybe everything is real and we have not enough information to make necessary assumptions. Maybe is all made up by someone who wanted all to have hope of something better than the inevitability of death.” Em sighed, “But if it helps? Sometimes Maker is a rose on a bush that hasn’t flowered before. Sometimes Maker is friends in darkest time who love each other. Sometimes Maker is very angry mage who doesn’t know how to care yet. Sometimes Maker is very angry warrior who is coming to see me because I was supposed to be in Chantry already—whoops.” Em’s eyes widened as she watched Cassandra stalk towards her with a scowl on her face.

“Lady Ashael, there you are!”

“Was talking to Leliana! Very important business!” Em pointed into the tent where Leliana still knelt in front of her altar.

Cassandra glanced at Leliana with a raised eyebrow, looking skeptical. Leliana had apparently had time to school her expression into something far less vulnerable and she nodded, “I had some...important business to discuss with the Blade of the Maker, yes.” Cassandra still looked dubious, clearly having realized Leliana was still kneeling in front of her personal altar and definitely not doing actual spymaster work, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Fine. You are still needed in the Chantry, Lady Ashael.” She said tersely as she turned on one heel and stalked away.

Em glanced at Leliana and whispered, “Thank you!” before jogging after Cassandra into the Chantry.

One hour of wasted time where she was told how to talk to people who considered themselves better than her because they had round ears and money later, Em sulked out of the Chantry doors and towards the direction of the apothecary building. Griping about injustice with Adan always cheered her up.

As she passed by Leliana’s tent again, she was stopped as a scout crossed in front of her path, straight towards the spymaster. Clearly something about the look on his face told Leliana everything she needed to know as she greeted the man with a “So it’s true...Butler has turned on us.” This gave Em pause, and she halted herself right outside the entrance of the tent, listening to the conversation with her head cocked to the side like an interested bird. “I had hoped my hunch was wrong.” Leliana finished.

“You knew him well?” The scout asked, sounding surprised.

“Not as well as I thought. Show me the reports.” The scout passed her a sheaf of papers and Em stepped closer on instinct, settling herself against the support pole of the tent at the entrance to listen and observe. Leliana leafed through the reports. “There were so many questions surrounding Farrier’s death,” Leliana continued, “did he think we wouldn’t notice? He’s _killed_ Farrier, one of my best agents. And knows where the others are.” Her face was twisted into the same sneer she’d given Em earlier as she shook her head and addressed the scout, “You know what must be done. Make it clean. Painless if you can. We were friends once.”

Em sucked in a sharp breath, causing Leliana’s attention to turn to her with sharp eyes.

“You have a judgement to make?”

Em cursed herself for having made a sound. She really didn’t want anyone to die, true, but this was Leliana’s business, her people. Em bit her lip and closed her eyes before saying something, “I...no. Your people. Your way of handling things. Just…” She sighed and opened her eyes, looking at the other woman and the scout who glanced between them uncertainly, “Perhaps he has more information? First?”

Leliana seemed to consider that point, her eyes narrowing further before she rolled them with a scoff, “What would be the point? He would not tell us what he knows, he’s been trained too well.”

“Maybe,” Em shrugged, “Hasn’t met me yet.” She let the unsaid implication hang in the air between them as Leliana regarded her further.

Not that Em would actually torture anyone, and frankly she didn’t know if she could get information out of someone else. But it was worth a shot to keep the agent alive as long as possible if only to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

“Fine. Bring Butler in alive. Alert me when he has arrived and I will have the Blade of the Maker see to him personally.” She said, sounding confident as the Scout nodded, saluted, and ran off to distribute the information or complete the task himself—Em wasn’t really sure.

Em watched Leliana’s face carefully, realizing suddenly—and she would never really know what exactly tipped her off about the other woman’s expression—that Leliana was trying to call her bluff. Em bit back a smirk. Well, this was better than sulking about how unfair it was she was getting remedial etiquette lessons on things she already knew.

“You are putting dozens of people at risk by letting Butler live longer.” Leliana said, coldly. Em snorted.

“You have more authority. Could have said no.”

“You have undermined me in front of my scout—”

“You have undermined _you_ in front of your scout.” Em corrected, “I suggested. You took the suggestion. You did not want him dead.”

“But I should.”

“Should you?”

The two stared one another down. The tension was thick enough that Em was pretty sure the soup spoon in her mess kit would slice through it like a custard. 

Em finally gave Leliana an unimpressed look and shrugged again, “Is your decision. You did not want him dead but was going to kill anyway. I only suggest we wait to kill until we attempt to get information first. You want to call scout back and change the order, go ahead. Less work for me.” She sniffed and pushed herself up off the pole, “See you later, Leliana.”

“Ugh, wait.” Leliana said as Em turned away. She paused, her ears twitching as she listened. “Your idea is...not a bad one. I intended to save further bloodshed by killing Butler before he could get to anyone else, but if there are others working with him or who know of the other agents’ whereabouts, it would make no difference to kill him without trying to find out who else knows what is going on.”

Em smiled to herself, not turning back around to Leliana. Instead she made yet another shrug, “Whatever you think is best, Sister Nightingale.” She hummed, “Let me know if my services are needed.” And with that she finally continued on her path to Adan, feeling weirdly more upbeat than she had after leaving the Chantry.

* * *

It was less than a day before they were scheduled to set off to Val Royeaux when Lia and Em woke to the sounds of chaos outside. Immediately they were up, dressed and armed, heading out the door to see what the issue was.

A large crowd had gathered in front of the Chantry where much of the yelling was coming from. They hurried up the stairs, ignoring pathways in order to approach as quickly as possible, and shoved themselves through the throng of bodies who refused to part, not realizing who it was that was trying to get through.

“Your kind killed the Most Holy!” A young templar was shouting at one of the mages, an older man who probably held the title of Enchanter at one point, based on the style of his robes—a thing both Lia and Em were becoming more adept at identifying thanks to their time in the Hinterlands. 

“Lies! Your kind let her die!” The mage was already holding his staff, clearly on the defensive, and as he spoke his own insult. 

The templar he was speaking to took the offense intended and shouted back, “Shut your mouth, Mage!” as he drew his weapon.

“HEY! Enough!” Em called, finally shoving through the others and stepping in between the two, right as the templar raised his blade, nearly slicing into her face as she stepped towards him.

There was a collective gasp as the crowd stilled. The templar’s anger was still burning in his eyes until he looked at the tiny elven woman who stood in front of him, protecting the mage he aimed his sword at. Taking in how close he had been to injuring her, his face paled and he lowered his weapon, “My lady…” He said, his voice shaking.

“Enough.” Lia repeated, also managing to step forward, back to back with Em and facing the mage instead.

“Lady Herald, he—” The mage began but Lia shook her head.

“I know what he said.” She cut the man off, “And he shouldn’t have. But you shouldn’t have said what you did either.”

“But it was a mage who—”

Em glared at the templar, “Quiet.” Her voice was low, forcing him to listen to her, “You do not know who killed the Divine. No one does,” She sighed. “Unless there is something you’d like to share?” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“What’s going— _What_ in the name of the Maker?” Cullen came storming out of the Chantry and caught sight of the templar who still had his blade drawn and the mage who had backed down—with Lia and Em between them. “What is going on here?” The question was addressed to Lia and Em who both shrugged.

“Just got here.” Em replied, raising her eyebrows as she gestured to the situation, “Arguing loud, weapons drawn. We stepped in.”

“Literally.” Lia finished for her.

“Clearly.” Cullen responded.

“Knight-Captain!” The templar addressed Cullen, “The—”

“That is _not_ my title.” Cullen snarled, “We are _not_ Templars anymore.” The templar seemed to back down a bit, as the Commander turned to the mage next, “We are _all_ part of the Inquisition.”

“And what does that mean, exactly?” The mage asked, crossing his arms. 

_Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit,_ Em thought to herself. Since Roderick wasn’t here, and was in fact on their side anyway, she’d thought they could avoid this shit.

“Really?” Lia muttered under her breath so that only Em could hear.

“It _means,_ ser Mage,” Em snapped, “That we are _trying_ to work together. And if you’re not willing to work with us, you can _leave._ ”

The mage looked completely affronted, as if both the method of address and the suggestion were equally abhorrent. 

“Well?” She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge, then turned her expression back to the templar, “Both of you should be _ashamed_ of yourselves. I’m not mad, I am _disappointed._ We are here to work _together_ and if you can’t manage that, then how can you stand beside us to help? This throws both of your groups into a very bad light, and I am upset that you have been such bad examples of what you want to show the Inquisition you can do.” She crossed her arms and managed to somehow look down her nose at both men who were significantly taller than she was. They both looked incredibly contrite, “What would your mentors say about you now? Hm? How disappointed they must be in the way you comport yourselves!”

Lia even felt a little bad about things as Em continued her chastising of the group, “And the rest of you! Just watching, or even egging them on! How could you? Do you not want to see us succeed in closing the hole in the sky? We can only do that if we work together! I am so ashamed. This is really and truly the best the Inquisition can do for ourselves? To fight like dogs over the last bowl of gruel from a cruel master? Or could we manage to work together, and maybe make the world less of a shitshow to live in while we figure out what the _fuck_ to do about the Breach?” Em was shaking her head as she addressed everyone present, “I want you all to separate for a little while, think about what kind of image of the Inquisition you’ve been presenting and what kind of image we _ought_ to present. I want to see you and you,” she pointed to the instigating mage and templar in question, “Back here in an hour and we’ll go over what actions you think would be best to help repair the relationship between you both. Go on.” She waved her hand dismissively and effectively dispersed the crowd, who shuffled off quietly, only a few scattered conversations heard between the different factions.

“What the fuck, Em.” Lia breathed as they were left by themselves.

“«Everyone hates the ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ lecture.»” She shrugged, turning to Cullen who looked completely gobsmacked.

“Commander?” Lia tried to hide her giggle but was relatively unsuccessful.

“Hm? Uh…” Cullen coughed, “Sorry I just...Haven’t witnessed a dressing down like that since my days as a recruit.” He trailed off into a mutter looking anywhere but at Em.

Em shrugged, appearing not to notice, which Lia found even funnier, “Is an effective method of producing change. Angry does not help anyone.” And with that she continued on her way, as though nothing had stopped her.

Lia waited until she was out of earshot to start laughing, which made Cullen flush a deeper red, “Stop, please that’s not—”

Lia couldn’t respond for her giggles, and when the two were approached by Cassandra shortly thereafter with concerns about the situation that had been diffused, she received answers from neither of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, direct from Project Elvhen:
> 
> tuelanen ama na - creators protect you  
> Dareth shiral - Go safely on your journey  
> Dirthavhen - the Dalish, from https://rivainisomniari.tumblr.com/post/187923538630/elven-word-for-dalish <3  
> erelan - mages, magic-users  
> lethallen - clan members (gender neutral)


	11. J'Accuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Beautiful city, marketplace theater filled with entertainment, Templars are a bit violent and didn't stay very long. Smells strongly of piss. 4 of 5 stars" - _Thedas!TripAdvisor review for Val Royeaux, probably_
> 
> Lia and Em are back at it with some shenanigans in the beautiful Orlesian city of Val Royeaux. The Author attempts his hand at smattering in French where applicable and remembers that he never actually learned the language and will need to apologize to his mother for never picking it up and also for butchering it entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! It's been a bit!
> 
> >.>
> 
> <.<
> 
> Hi, yes, sorry for the delay. I have a single chapter ready for you - potentially another if I get ambitious after I post this one but two is the max this update. Things have been slow as I was overtaken by an entirely separate hyperfixation that's taken over my creative juices which... honestly I should be less surprised about considering I spent two years working on _this_ story so far and have _ten fucking fics plotted out_ for it.
> 
> Also I apparently used less French in this chapter than I remembered which means it's coming later and I weep for my readers who know French. Sorry!! I promise it's not on purpose and I'm trying my best!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> \---
> 
> Text between the « and » symbols is Elvhen, unbracketed Elvhen translated in the chapter end notes.

The journey to Val Royeaux was remarkably unremarkable. After six days of travel by horse to Jader and three days of travel by boat from there to various ports along the Waking Sea, they finally landed in Val Royeaux properly.

As they approached the great city from the docks, Em and Lia’s mouths dropped open near simultaneously.

Varric chuckled, “You’ll catch flies if you keep that up, ladies,” He said as he passed them. Lia shook herself a little and gathered her composure, straightening up and glancing around slightly nervously. It was a grand city, towering spires, colorful buildings, gold glinting off of nearly everything. It was, in a word, breathtaking.

She glanced at Em who had also closed her mouth and was now making a sour face.

“Ahn del?” She asked as Em wrinkled her nose and wriggled her mouth like a disgruntled bunny.

“«Does it smell like piss to you?»” Em responded and Lia took an unfortunately deep breath, initially only smelling the salt of the sea air they’d been smelling for days on end before the stench of urine caught her attention. She made a face as well, glancing back at Em who raised an eyebrow.

“«Ew, fuck. Yeah…yeah it does. That’s horrible. No one warned us about this.»”

Em snorted, “«Maybe no one else notices.»”

“«Most people just ignore it in favor of the grand architecture,»” Solas’ voice came from behind them, sounding distinctly amused. Em jumped in surprise as Lia blushed brightly. Somehow they’d both forgotten he’d come along.

“«Most people are idiots,»” Em retorted, her face also bright red as she stalked forward to catch up with Varric and Cassandra who had gotten well ahead of them, muttering, “May Dread Wolf never hear footsteps, hmph!”

Bells tolled as they approached the gates from the dock. What few people passed by were solemn as they walked, and Cassandra commented, “The city still mourns.”

“I tual’mahd fra ven,” Em grumbled as they continued on.

They passed a couple who glanced up at the group and the woman gasped, startled, and began to hurry away. “Just a guess, Seeker, but I think they all know who we are.” Varric muttered, deadpan.

“They’d better,” Lia commented. “I mean, we spent enough time arranging this whole thing, it’d be more insulting if they didn’t know we were here.”

“Yes, your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric,” Cassandra retorted with an eye roll at the dwarf.

As they approached the main gates of the city, Em saw someone hurrying straight towards them. She pulled the group up short as a young person with almond-shaped, dark eyes approached, kneeling before Em.

“My Lady Blade, Lady Herald,” The scout said as they knelt.

Cassandra addressed the scout, “You’re one of Leliana’s people. What have you found?”

The scout spoke with a faint Orlesian accent as they responded, “The Chantry mothers await you, but so do a great many Templars.”

Cassandra’s surprise was etched into her face, “There are Templars here?”

They nodded, “People seem to think the Templars will protect them from…from the Inquisition,” they finished a little nervously. “They’re gathering on the other side of the market. I think that’s where the Templars intend to meet you.”

Lia and Em exchanged a glance behind Cassandra’s back. It seemed like no matter what they did, the Chantry didn’t give a shit about the Inquisition’s intentions. Em pulled her lips into a tight line, huffing a breath through her nose. She’d really hoped Roderick would be able to talk some sense into the Revered Mothers they were planning to meet.

Cassandra glanced back over her shoulder briefly to glance at the two other women, before gesturing that the Scout stand back up, “Only one thing to do, then.”

Em nodded, her face splitting into a wide grin, “Kick ass, take names—and we’re all out of names.”

Cassandra looked affronted as Lia cackled softly, and the mage collected herself before chuckling out, “Maybe not this time.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like her plan,” Varric teased.

“Do not encourage them!” Cassandra fussed at Varric, as Em and Lia broke out into another round of giggles.

Varric held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t encourage the punch-happy elf. Got it. Not like I’ve never had _that_ job before,” He finished under his breath.

Cassandra sighed, rolling her eyes hard as she turned back to address the scout, “Return to Haven. Someone will need to inform them if we are…delayed.” The implication sobered Lia and Em as they caught their breaths, straightening to approach the city with purpose.

“As you say, my lady,” The scout nodded with a salute, before starting their journey back to the docks to catch a ship on towards Haven. The group continued through the narrow walkway into the market.

On the stage erected in the market, a Chantry mother addressed the crowd gathered in Orlesian. Em understood her perfectly, which was a surprise, though after a quick exchange of looks and some small, frantic hand motions, the bigger surprise was realizing Lia couldn’t understand a single word of what was being said.

Em pulled another tight-lipped smile. Well, that took care of who would be in charge of addressing the assembled mothers.

As they approached the stage the mother stood on, Cassandra muttered the name of the woman into Lia’s ear. Thankfully, Em was able to hear it as well, because it wouldn’t do Lia much good, “That is the Revered Mother Hevara addressing the crowd. I do not know her well, but she is a devout and reasonable woman from what I have heard.”

Em inhaled deeply through her nose, catching a huge whiff of the perfumes that seemed to cover the crowd in a miasma. At least they took care of the piss-smell, though it did nothing for the growing headache behind her eyes.

“Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!” Mother Hevara was saying, “Together we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by _treachery!”_

That…wasn’t good.

What the fuck had Roderick been doing with all his time supposedly attempting to get the Chantry on their side? Em glanced about at the crowd, attempting to assess how bad the fall out would be if things turned south.

Lia took the time while the chantry mother was addressing the crowd to observe the others gathered with her on stage. There were several other Chantry figures dressed in their resplendent white and red garb and standing solemnly behind Hevara as she spoke. On the left side of the stage stood a dark-skinned templar, stalwart and silent as stone, though he would occasionally glance around like he was unsure of what was going on, or perhaps uncomfortable with the situation—though most likely both. She was pretty sure that would end up being the contact for the Templars in the event the Inquisitor chose them over the Mages in the game. What was his _name?_

Em retrained her gaze on Mother Hevara as she continued her speech, “You wonder what will become of her murderers. Well wonder no more!” The older woman waved her arm in a great sweeping motion over the crowd as a rush of chatter like a babbling creek started between the collected people. The Inquisition group exchanged nervous glances, more knowing ones swapping between the two elves as Em gestured something frantically with her hands. Lia could immediately read the gestures— _Just like the game, she’s going to point us out as the murderers. I’ll take care of it, trust me._

Lia could only nod as Mother Hevara continued, “Behold! The so-called Herald of Andraste and professed Blade of the Maker!” Hevara’s voice was filled with derision as she spoke, “They claim to rise where our beloved fell—we say these are false prophets! The Maker would send no elf—no _mage!_ —in our hour of need.”  
Em had had enough. That was clearly bullshit even if you just looked at the Chantry’s own accepted canon of the Chant of Light—let alone the shit they’d struck from the record because they were racist bitches.

She snarled as she interrupted the Revered Mother, “Quelle connerie! Even if we claimed attachment to your Maker, your books held stories of Shartan, the elf who walked with Andraste—there is precedent in your religion for elves sent to help others, but aside from that we don’t say we’re from the Maker or Andraste! We want to close the _fucking_ hole in the sky. Or has that somehow missed your notice? Your people are scared and in need and you have hidden away in your shining cities to ignore them in favor of fighting amongst yourselves!”

Several jaws dropped as Em berated the mother on the stage, including Mother Hevara’s as her face flushed bright red in anger, “How _dare_ you?”

“Am I wrong? Is that not what you are doing, hiding from the world when it needs your help and guidance most? We aren’t coming to take over, we just want to _help.”_

“It’s true!” Cassandra stepped to Em’s side, giving her a hard look from the corner of her eye before continuing, “The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!” There was another rush of chatter in the crowd. Unable to understand a single word of what was going on, Lia stepped back a little, continuing to gauge the hostility levels in the crowd gathered. An angry mob would do them no favors, especially considering how closely packed in everyone was in the crowd.

“It is already too late,” Mother Hevara shook her head, stepping back as she gestured to the side, “The Templars have returned to the Chantry!” As she spoke, a cadre of Templars approached the stage from the right, led by the Lord Seeker Lucius—or at least, the Envy demon posing as Lord Seeker Lucius, Em remembered with annoyance. The Templars mounted the stage steps and Mother Hevara continued, “They will face this ‘Inquisition,’ and the people will be safe once more!”

“The fuck are they going to do?” Em asked, annoyed, “They cannot close the Breach any more than the Chantry can. You’re putting everyone in danger!”

The Lord Seeker said nothing as he crossed the stage in front of Mother Hevara, looking down his nose at her and then at the people gathered. As he passed, a templar followed behind him, coming up behind Hevara and pulling back his arm. Em was moving before she even registered the blow to the back of the Revered Mother’s head. She pulled herself up onto the stage and approached the templar, shoving him back roughly, “What the _fuck?!”_

The templar who had already been on stage looked aghast as the Lord Seeker approached him and clapped his shoulder with a solid pat, “Still yourself, Barris. She is beneath us.” His voice projected in clear, unaccented Orlesian and Em whirled around with a glare.

“Excuse the _fuck_ out of you!” She snarled, “What gives you the right to hit someone who wasn’t doing anything but talking nonsense?”

The crowd around them was in an uproar. Cassandra had been barred from joining Em on the stage by Templars who closed ranks around the perimeter to keep the crowd at bay. The others were getting twitchy on their own, tense with fingers itching for their weapons but refrained from drawing anything in the crowd of civilians.   
On stage, the Lord Seeker looked down his nose at Em—a move that was emphasized by his height advantage—while simultaneously appearing mildly impressed with her gall. As Em approached him, the other Templars stepped forward, but the Lord Seeker held up his hand to halt them.

“What kind of man are you, that you must hit an innocent woman to feel better about yourself?” She sneered.

“I did not hit her—”

“Like you’re not where the orders come from!” Em rolled her eyes with a scoff, “How _dare_ you?”

They stood in silent stalemate, glaring at one another from mere feet away. Em stepped closer, getting right into the Lord Seeker’s face, “I know what you are,” She whispered in Orlesian, “I know what you’re doing and you _will not win.”_

“Lord Seeker?” Barris asked in Trade, not Orlesian. Em was surrounded, outnumbered, and staring down an Envy Demon who was impersonating a very important and powerful man with permission. Adrenaline rushed through her, making her chest feel tight and her teeth feel hot and itchy.

She stood her ground.

Lucius paid Barris no mind as he responded to Em, “Her claim to ‘authority’ is an insult—much like your own.” He glared down at Em, his voice still projecting to the crowd. He was intentionally making a scene.

He wanted all the attention on him, Em realized.

Em let a dangerous, evil little smile cross her face. Envy was _nothing_ compared to Pride.

“You’re not the first demon I’ve fought with words, _linalin’palasha,”_ She hissed, watching the Lord Seeker’s eyes widen minutely with what could have been interpreted as fear or surprise. She projected her voice like she was on stage as the lead in a play, sarcasm infusing her tone, “Lord Seeker Lucius, a man who would strike an old woman who posed no threat to him! What power! What strength! How _laudable,_ a man who would take down the defenseless!” She felt attention shift to her and the Lord Seeker’s eyes narrowed into a dark glare.

“You play with powers beyond your ken, _Herald.”_ Em’s smile widened a fraction as she realized he had no idea which of them was which—that _none_ of them knew which of the elves was the Herald and which was the Blade.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, _Lord Seeker,”_ She returned, her grin predatory and sharp, “I think I know exactly what I’m doing. What, are you _envious_ of what the Inquisition has?”

He snarled, breaking for a moment, before spinning away and stalking off the stage, the Templars following him at a moment’s gesture.

“Lord Seeker?” Cassandra called, confused and distressed by the turn of events.

“Do not speak to me,” He said, tersely, not looking at her at all as he continued, “Creating a heretical movement? Raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet? You should be ashamed.” He began projecting again as attention landed on him once more, “You should _all_ be ashamed! The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages! You are the ones who have failed! You who’d leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear!”

“How fucking righteous you are, hitting old women and slaughtering the innocent just cause they’ve got the gift the Maker gave them, hm? They did nothing wrong and you’re just fucking them over cause you’re a big bully, you big bully!” Em hollered over the Lord Seeker, drowning him as their speeches battled for dominance.

“If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine!”

“What a load of horseshit!”

“Be _quiet!”_ The Lord Seeker finally broke, shouting back at Em, who lowered her hands from her mouth as a pseudo-megaphone and grinned unrepentantly.

“Oh, was I bothering you? Sorry!” She shouted to him. “Oh wait, no I’m not. You’re talking a load of bullcrap! Destiny doesn’t mean bullshit, and you’re just a sad sorry sonuvabitch who doesn’t have any fucking honor!”

A couple of the Templars—the lower ranking ones—glanced at one another nervously, which did not go unnoticed by the members of the Inquisition who were still reeling from all of the things the Lord Seeker had said and done in the past few minutes, as well as Em’s actions in relation to the Lord Seeker.

Lia’s grip on her staff was white-knuckled and she was cursing under her breath that Em just shut up and let the scene play out like it was supposed to. She couldn’t understand what was being said but it didn’t sound good, and if it just went like in the games everyone came out safe. Everyone came out _alive._ With Em going off script, Lia didn’t know what might happen next and it was _terrifying._

Varric placed a gentle hand on hers, drawing her attention from the scene unfolding. She let out a shaky exhale and gave him a small, uncertain smile.

“He won’t do anything to her in public,” Varric muttered to her in Trade, “I don’t know what they’ve been saying, but I can’t imagine he’d hit two people and think he could keep whatever standing he has still.”

Lia wasn’t so sure, but it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t understand what was being said. “I hope you’re right…” She murmured, twisting her grip anxiously against her staff, though her hold did relax a little.

The thing was, she knew that this was not actually the Lord Seeker, but the Envy Demon pretending to be Lucius. And who knew what that demon could be pushed to if Em went too far?

“Fuck the Lord Seeker!” Em called out again, “Templars, would you rather follow some pretentious megalomaniac who doesn’t give a shit about you except to further his own agenda, or help us actually save the fucking world? We already have many former Templars who work with us, you would be welcomed to the Inquisition!”   
The Lord Seeker let out a snarl, and rejoindered, “Oh, a mighty threat you face indeed, the Breach—but you do not have the power to stop it, with or without the Templars.”

Barris finally stepped up, having not actually moved from the stage, and addressed the Lord Seeker from Em’s side, in Trade, and only projecting to have his question heard by the man in question, “But, Lord Seeker…what if she really was sent by the Maker? What if—?”  
One of the higher-ranked Templars responded instead, another who had not yet left the stage where Em stood with hands on her hips like she was playing a strange version of Peter Pan for Thedas. The Templar cut his hand through the air between them in a dismissing motion, “You are called to a higher purpose, do not question!”

“I will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the void!” The Lord Seeker said, his voice indicating this would be his final statement to the crowd, “We deserve recognition. Independence!” He turned to Em and glared, _“You_ have shown me nothing, and the Inquisition…less than nothing!” Another gesture by the Lord Seeker and the Templars reflectively saluted, their hands coming to their chests in a steady, almost unanimous thumping of leather-covered fist to metal chest-plate, “Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!”

Em blew a raspberry at the man who had addressed Barris as the unnamed Templar passed her. She then addressed Barris who was waiting for his turn to walk on, “Higher purpose—yes, but not with them,” She muttered in Trade, rolling her eyes then looked him dead on. “Reach out to us, Lieutenant Barris,” She murmured, quiet enough for the Templar to hear but not his commanding officers, “We will support you if you need us.”

He gave her a confused and startled look, but was quickly swept up with the wave of Templars leaving the stage to follow after the Lord Seeker who was heading the procession out of Val Royeaux.

The gathered crowd descended into a press of panicked and confused citizens, and the Inquisition group removed themselves off to the side as Em approached the Chantry mother on the stage.

Varric broke the silence of the small group off to the side with a, “Charming fellow, isn’t he?” to try and lighten the mood.

Cassandra was far more distressed, and probably rightfully so, Lia figured, considering how close she had been to the man at one point, “Has the Lord Seeker gone mad?” She exclaimed, her voice shaking with anger and frustration, undercut with frightened disbelief. Lia could sympathize.

“Did you know him well?” Varric asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert’s death. He was always a decent man, never given to ambition or grandstanding. This is very bizarre.”

“Like he was possessed,” Lia murmured, more to herself.

She must have miscalculated how loudly she was speaking as Cassandra responded, “Seekers cannot be possessed.”

“So…impersonated?” Lia offered instead. Maybe if they could get the idea in early it wouldn’t be so shocking for Cassandra later when the truth was revealed to her.

“No, it _was_ him, I am sure of it.” Cassandra asserted, her eyebrows low as she gazed off in the direction the Templars had gone.

“It does not look as though the Templars will be much help after all,” Solas piped in, which was about as unhelpful as he seemed to consider the Templars to be. Lia fought the urge to scowl at him.

“There might be some dissent in the ranks, we can’t know for sure that they’re a completely lost cause,” Lia said with a huff.

This earned her a raised eyebrow from Solas, “You would side with the Templars, though you are an apostate mage?”

Lia shrugged, “Can’t side with anyone yet, so I’d rather not burn bridges before we even get to them.” Varric raised his eyebrows and nodded with a contemplative look on his face as Solas leveled Lia with a stern look. She tried not to feel like she’d just disappointed a teacher because she was _right_ and she knew it.

* * *

Em approached the Chantry mother and knelt near her, though the other Chantry figures clustered around Hevara and glanced at Em warily.

“Revered Mother,” Em said, softly to the woman who was still dazed and confused from having been given a proper concussion by a Templar who definitely hadn’t pulled his punch, “I apologize for my words to you earlier.”

“This victory must please you greatly,” Mother Hevara hissed, holding her head and leaning heavily on one of her attendants.

“This was no victory, Mother,” Em said. “We came only to speak with the Chantry, to talk about what the Inquisition is doing, and try to find common ground.”

“You speak as though you had no part in forcing our hand! Do not delude yourself. Now we have been shown up by our own Templars in front of everyone! And my fellow clerics have scattered to the wind, along with their convictions.”

Em bit back the exasperated sigh and the eyeroll she desperately wanted to do. Instead she inhaled slowly and exhaled slower, “Revered Mother, I apologize for the slight against you, perceived and actual—though we did not intend to make you feel forced into anything. We truly do want peace.”

The Revered Mother sighed, shaking her head slowly, though it clearly pained her to do so, “Just…tell me one thing: Are you the Maker’s chosen, as so many claim?”

Em chewed her cheek, “I do not know your Maker, Mother. I do not believe I or my companion were chosen. We only wish to help heal the sky and protect Thedas as best we are able.”

“Maker help us,” The revered mother intoned, before continuing, “What if we have erred?” She sighed. “I suppose it is out of our hands now. We shall all see what the Maker plans in the days to come.”

“I suppose so,” Em rocked back from kneeling into a deep squat, resting her arms on her knees. “Well…If you find your Maker pulls you to help us, we welcome you. If he doesn’t,” she shrugged, “Then he doesn’t. We’ll still welcome you. Dareth Shiral, Revered Mother.”

With that, Em pushed herself from her squat and glanced out over the crowd where the others had stood previously. She didn’t see them immediately but they caught her looking for them and Lia waved her arm over her head in a big, sweeping motion. Em hopped down off the stage, not taking the stairs as a normal person might have, and shoved her way through the still gathered crowd towards her friends.

"Well? What have you got to say for yourself?" Cassandra asked testily in Trade as Em approached. The shorter woman pulled the triumphant grin from taunting the Lord Seeker over the contemplative grimace she'd acquired speaking with Hevara.

"Don't know what you mean, Seeker-Cassandra," Em said, brightly, "I think it went well."

Lia bit her lip and shook her head with an eye roll, hiding her own grin. She would have been more jovial about it if the anxiety from moments earlier wasn't still flooding her system with the urge to fight or flee the situation. Varric let out his own startled laugh at Em’s lighthearted response, "Seriously? Kid, I don't need to know the language to know that went bad and fast."

Em shrugged, "Could have been worse."

"Could have been bears," Lia supplied helpfully. Em placed one index finger on her nose and pointed at Lia with her other one.

"See? Sahrena understands." Em dodged a playful swat from Varric and grinned widely as Cassandra groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Seriously though, kid, that didn’t look like it went well.”

Em shook her head and shrugged, skipping a little ahead as they made their way out of the market and towards the quarter where their lodgings would be, “Better than it could have. Mother Hevara might come around, dunno yet. Angry that she was so against us from the outset—would have been nice to have warning about that _before_ arriving.” She glowered as she slowed to a stop.

Lia placed her hand on the top of Em’s head and pulled her into her shoulder, “We can ask about that later. You got to talk to her though?”

Em made the same gesture she had before she’d gotten involved in the scene, the one that communicated things were still the same as the game, “She’s hesitant. I guess understandable. Tried to explain. Said if Maker says to help then we will welcome. If Maker doesn’t say, then it doesn’t matter but will still welcome anyway regardless.” She leaned on Lia’s shoulder and wrapped her arm around Lia’s waist. Their steps synched up as they weaved through the people in the street. “Also told Barris to let us know if he needs help.”

_“That’s_ his name.” Lia exclaimed softly, “I could not for the life of me remember it.”

Em snorted, “Careful what you remember, eh?” She jabbed her index finger into Lia’s side gently, “But yes. Said if Templars need help—or just him I’m not picky—let us know.”

“Think he’ll take us up on it after today?”

“Don’t see why not.” Em pulled away and began skipping off again as the street emptied a little. Lia nodded, figuring the worst thing that could come out of today would be the Templars not contacting the Inquisition at all. Otherwise it would be the same as the game, and if the Templars didn’t contact the Inquisition…well, at least there were still the Mages.

“«The Lord Seeker?»” Lia asked, skipping ahead as well to catch up with Em and linking their arms together so they could continue side-by-side.

“«Bit _prideful_ if you ask me,»” Em snickered as she spoke, the others having caught up to the two. She caught a glimpse of Solas’ face going a little pinched as she spoke.

“«At least you didn’t climb up his arm and stab him in the eye.»” Lia sighed, though she grinned. Solas choked behind them and Em giggled.

“Could still happen, never know.” She sing-songed as they led the group down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen translations and lexicon from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true) by FenxShiral:
> 
> Ahn del? - What is wrong?  
> I tual’mahd fra ven - By pissing (making piss) on the road  
> linalin’palasha - parent fucker (Because motherfucker seemed a bit too on the nose lol)
> 
> French translations in case you can't find them because I fucked up too badly:  
> Quelle connerie - What shit!

**Author's Note:**

> Fine Elvhen Translations, direct from [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true)
> 
> da’Banaean - little blackbird  
> Diana rahn - Stuff it!
> 
> __
> 
> Lia and Em are what happens when the two mom-friends try to mom-friend one another. This is an ongoing theme and very indicative of mine and Sumomo's actual relationship - which is good cause that's what this story is based on lol.


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